


Knots Way

by InoruMarufuji



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Changbin lives on a houseboat and it's the coolest thing, Chanlix the air couple, Character Death, Element metaphors, Fluff, Hwang Hyunjin Being an Asshole, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inniebinnie nation rise!!, Inniebinnie the water couple, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Seo Changbin are Best Friends, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Imprisonment, Mentions of Suicide, Minsung the fire couple, Murder, Murder AND fluff okay, Not Inniebinnie tho, Plot Twists, Seo Changbin-centric, Seungjin the earth couple, Strangers to Lovers, Temporary Amnesia, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Yang Jeongin | I.N is Whipped, Yang Jeongin | I.N is a Sweetheart, character injury, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InoruMarufuji/pseuds/InoruMarufuji
Summary: A fragile flower sways in the wind. A heart that doesn't connect sinks underneath the deep sea. A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.----''It's me'', the boy answered, with a voice so weak that it was in danger of being blown away by the wind. ''Jeongin.''Jeongin.The word felt like a spell on his tongue, sounded like a song to his ears, but the sensation was fleeting, tinted with regret and melancholy, a reminder of days spent in bliss that he wasn't able to grasp.He didn't remember. There was nothing there.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Seo Changbin/Yang Jeongin | I.N
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. The Deeper The Waters Are

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I have decided to do the world a favor and write a ChangIN (Inniebinnie) fic because there's a serious lack of those out there. 
> 
> You're all very welcome and I accept payment for my gracious service as cash and credit.
> 
> (Seriously, I think I poured my soul into this fic.)
> 
> [This is the song that inspired this fic.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS2MginJXHI)

All that held beauty also held danger.

Living near the sea his whole life, Changbin had acquired that knowledge early enough, having strayed a little _too_ far from the beach house he had occupied with his parents back when he had been four because there had been talk about a beautiful blue and dragon like slug in the sea.

His parents had warned him extensively about the toxicity of the slug, telling him not to go into the water without them, but to little Changbin, that warning had only served to make him more curious, so it came as no surprise when he took his chance the moment his parents' backs were turned.

In retrospect, he couldn't remember much of the experience, only a flash of the majestic blue creature gliding through the water, looking very much like a tiny sea dragon, and him reaching out to capture it before a searing pain had erupted in his fingers.

There existed some marvelous pictures of what his hand had looked like after this stunt, angry burn marks drawn upon his skin in the most random of patterns, painful runes read only by the mighty dragon that had inflicted them on him – at least that had been his take on the story and his parents had played along for their own amusement after they had been done scolding him.

That beach house had seen a lot of those events, of him going around and touching anything and everything that made it to the shallow end of the beach, and while he supposed there should have been some sort of learning process somewhere along the way, he had tossed that aside the moment he had discovered the next sparkly thing that drew his attention.

Living near the sea, there was _always_ something that sparkled, even if it only was the sunlight on the waves, the little drops splashing everywhere when the silent water was disturbed, the gorgeous scales of shillering fishes whenever they dared to get close.

It wasn't just the water and its residents that glistened so ethereally, in fact, he had experienced the brightest shimmer back when he had been fifteen.

He had been out on a walk on the beach, sand in his eyes and salt in his mouth, when he had noticed something among the waves that didn't belong there at all despite the carefree way it had swayed back and forth not too far away in front of him, almost urging him to grab it.

Once again too tempted to resist and attracted by the sparkle on the surface, he had stalked into the water, his jeans getting all wet and heavy in his haste to catch the object, but he had hardly even noticed, curiosity and joy about having found a treasure reigning strong in his mind.

As it turned out, what he had found was a drift bottle on its wide journey through the sea, glass reflecting the light prettily, and it indeed held a little treasure in the form of a simple silver necklace with two interlocked rings, the symbolic as basic as it was lovely.

Even though it wasn't his, Changbin had claimed the piece of jewelry without asking too many questions, figuring the original owner had been simply trying to get rid of it by rather _unconventional_ means.

Not a day had gone by after that where he didn't wear the necklace, dreaming up the wildest stories about where it had come from, many of which involved a story of a pirate captain tossing his possessions overboard during a fight in order to spare himself from the shame of having them taken from him.

There were other possibilities of course, much more realistic ones at that, but Changbin's imagination had always gone beyond logic anyway, grasping at straws to make everything as mysterious as possible.

And looking back at his childhood, he could say it was always tinted in shades of ambiguity and colorful stories to fill out the many mysteries he had been so gifted in creating.

He loved mysteries and everything revolving around them, for mystery created wonder and wonder was the basis of man's desire to understand.

Maybe that was why he liked the sea so much, the vast, deep and still void that was less explored than the surface of moon, probably home to so many creatures and lifeforms that nobody even knew about yet.

The mere thought what could lay hidden in plain sight, but so far out of reach that it had gone unnoticed for _centuries_ delighted Changbin like little else, drew him to the sea and made him want to explore it any way he could, just so he could indulge in the beauty of endless blue, the sea breeze fussing up his hair and of course, the sparkling fishes and stunning coral reefs right beneath the surface.

He might have pestered his friends with his fantasies and rambles about the ocean and all it held hidden a little _too_ long though, considering he seemed to have rubbed off on Jisung to the point of the younger applying for various water themed jobs even though his passion had clearly been music back in school.

But Jisung's mind swayed anyway, in much the same way that waves did, crashing at the shore like a gentle kiss or sweeping him off his feet with a powerful hit and leaving him sputtering in the sand.

Jisung worked like a scale, at peace with himself up until there was one wrong word, one bold gesture, one misplaced smile from Changbin's side that toppled him over, that had him hissing and screaming at the older and even though it was difficult to keep his composure sometimes, Changbin did what he could on days where Jisung was just _looking_ for something to set him off.

Such was the case today, with the brilliant radiance of a cloudless sky above and the calming blue of the ocean dozing below, reflecting the glittering light and making it seem like a dozen diamonds were dancing on the smooth surface.

''We've been here for _hours_ , why can't I catch anything?''

Jisung twirled his fishing rod in his hands, frustration and poorly concealed aggression making for an unsettling mix on his face despite Changbin knowing that he couldn't hurt a fly to save his life.

He seemed all fiery and dangerous to people around him, but really, it was just a matter of finding some sweet words to extinguish the flame or, as Minho always stressed, _embracing_ the fire, reveling in the heat and igniting the spark that was hidden inside everyone's soul.

Changbin didn't believe in that philosophy.

He had always been more of a water type himself, picturing the soul like an ocean, mysterious and unrelenting in a very different way to how fire was, but he quite enjoyed exchanging varying world views, his group of friends all able to look at a simple picture and assembling four distinct stories from it.

''Changbin hyung, why can't I catch anything?'', Jisung asked again, violently yanking the rod out of the water and thus showering the two of them with a drizzle of heavenly coldness on the hellscape that was today.

It had been a while since Changbin had witnessed a true heatwave rolling over the country, ushering everyone into the relief that was the ocean, but now that it was here, he decided that he didn't like it.

The masses of people playing around in the endless blue disturbed some part of his soul, some inner serenity he'd held before, and as a result, he couldn't quite indulge in his favorite past-time as easily as he normally would have.

He wiped some stray drops of water from his flushed skin, focusing on the way his bait floated a bit further away from the boat they had rented much like every Wednesday.

''You're too impatient.''

His bait disappeared beneath the surface for the slightest fragment of a second, a fish experimentally nibbing on the delicious snack as if to weigh if it was worth the risk.

Maybe it didn't even think that far in the first place, simply tempted by the bait that hung right above its body, still and innocent as if it hadn't taken the lives of so many of its brothers and sisters, as if it wasn't tangible proof of man's dominance over the ocean and all its life.

''I'm not impatient!'', Jisung objected, his usual temper flaring up like a gust of air sparked a mighty fire, but truth be told, Changbin wasn't paying attention to his antics, fixated only on the fish that was still hovering under the bait, gracefully and elegantly, its fate balancing so beautifully between life and death.

It was almost like the fish was in a mental battle with itself, if only it had the capacities of doing something as mundane as thinking.

There was a twitch in the water, the thin string tensing to indicate a catch, and Changbin reeled in the fish expertly, moving swiftly to secure the little fella while Jisung gawked at his movements, his own rod uselessly hanging over the edge of the boat, abandoned and cursed to fail its wielder.

Still holding on to the rod with one hand, Changbin reached for his fishing net with the other, slowly lowering it into the water and leading the fish into it head first.

There was no haste in his actions, only practiced professionalism as he lifted his catch – a Crucian carp – into the boat, his fingers gently taking the hook out of its mouth before he tossed it back into the ocean, the fish immediately rushing off into the depths of its home.

''Why didn't you kill it?''

Jisung was watching the carp leave with envy apparent in his eyes, regretful gaze settling on his rod for a moment, and he huffed in annoyance, some competitive nature inside of him pushing him to do better even though he clearly couldn't outdo Changbin in his own element.

''There was no reason'', the older simply replied, casting his rod again after making sure he had attached a new bait securely. ''I wasn't going to eat it and I'm pretty sure neither were you.''

Jisung made a face of disgust at the mere thought of eating a fish he had seen Changbin catch, something about it revolting and repulsive even though he had no problem purchasing the same fish from the store.

''We could have had some fun with it though.''

The unmistakable flick of a lighter had Changbin scoff and swat at the younger, knowing damn well that he had a history of setting objects on fire, as well as a corresponding unhealthy obsession regarding fire in general.

If anything was burning in town, Jisung was suspect number one, with Minho not too far behind, laughing and admiring the flames as if they were anything that deserved that kind of awe.

Those two were an explosive and dangerous couple which was why it was so important for Changbin to be around them and douse their fire before it could wreck havoc.

He considered it a service to society.

They just thought he was clingy, though they didn't seem to particularly mind as long as he didn't try to sign them up for therapy like he had done last time they had set someone's garage on fire.

There was a _very_ noticeable line between obsessing over bonfires and actually going out and committing crimes that could lead to a prison sentence and as far as Jisung and Minho went, they walked all over this line, Jisung driven by some feral instinct to see the world burn and Minho as a not so accidental enabler basking in the heat resulting from the fire.

They were a general hazard to society and the fact that nobody had gotten around to arrest them was marvelous at best and horrifying at worst.

''I don't really like your idea of _fun_ , Jisung.''

Even though he was facing the ocean, Changbin could imagine Jisung rolling his eyes at the comment like he so often did before he inevitably told Changbin how boring he was.

''That's because you're _boring_ , hyung'', came the statement right on cue. ''No wonder you like fishing so much. It's as boring as you.''

Changbin honestly thought there was nothing more exciting than following the ocean's flow, gaining insight into the mysterious waters that probably had so many stories left to tell if anyone was willing to listen, but he doubted he could make his reasoning palatable to the younger.

He couldn't even understand it himself why he was drawn to the water so consistently and desperately, needing it like other people needed air to breathe, and every time he tried to search his memories for a turning point of when _want_ had become _need_ he came up empty, memories like glittering fish in the sea that slipped from his grasp.

He inhaled deeply, the humid summer air tasting of salt and freedom, and even if it wasn't Jisung's forte, he saw the younger relaxing anyway, closing his eyes as a warm breeze caressed his face.

''Though I do have to admit that this is nice'', he relented, leaning against the edge of the boat and turning his face up so the sun could warm it.

There was a rustle of something wrapped in paper and before Changbin knew it, Jisung was holding out a piece of candy to him, one of the many he always had on him for some reason.

He was like a walking candy shop, always comforting his friends with sweet sins and giving out his candies randomly to passing strangers on the street, not minding their irritated looks or raised brows.

Jisung was a strange one, but Changbin found him endearing in his own way, so he took the candy to avoid a hissy fit from the younger and let it melt on his tongue, savoring the sweetness for all it was worth.

Neither of them caught anything spectacular for the remainder of the afternoon – Jisung wasn't even trying anymore – and by the time the sun was about to set at the horizon, leaving Changbin with a nasty sunburn from being out all day, they were ready to call it quits, the air having cooled down a lot and only contributing to their quick return.

''Are you doing anything fun with Minho tonight?'', Changbin asked as he was rowing the boat back towards the harbor, more out of worry than genuine interest, even more so when Jisung hummed affirmatively and gave him a sly smile.

''Oh, we've been thinking of playing a little with fire.''

The vague nature of his sentence had Changbin's alarm bells ringing, though he knew that Jisung liked to rile him up on purpose every now and then. Brat.

''Where and when do I have to interfere?''

''Tonight, 10 pm, my bedroom'', Jisung supplied, wiggling his brows suggestively which only served to make the older huff.

He didn't necessarily approve of the weird bedroom adventures Jisung and Minho shared, but he figured as long as it was consensual, it didn't need to be safe or sane anyway. It was probably okay.

''Thanks, count me out.''

''You're no fun.''

A short moment of silence ensued, the lapping of the water against the side of the boat the only sound penetrating the thick blanket surrounding them, and Changbin was about to question Jisung's practice further when a light suddenly turned on in front of them, the lighthouse that was located in the middle of the harbor coming to life and shedding its lights onto the still ocean.

The sun was barely hovering over the horizon, technically still supplying enough light, but of course Chan was already in his spot, getting ready for a long, sleepless night again.

Not that it was anything new, but still, Changbin made a mental note to check up on him once he'd dropped off Jisung.

''Do you think that guy sleeps at all?'', the younger commented, a nod at the lighthouse indicating he was talking about Chan, their local insomniac who used to have his life better under control than any of them and had functioned better on three hours of sleep than Changbin had on eight. Keyword being _had_.

''Maybe?''

It was difficult to judge really, especially considering the accident and the onslaught of nightmares it had brought over Chan, the older preferring to flee his twisted dreamworld in favor of this one, the one that provided the comforting presence of his boyfriend and the support of his friends.

''It's probably still hard on him.''

Some days Chan didn't even seem to really tread in this realm, his mind far away to wallow in his misery and self-inflicted, monochromatic pain, searing and aching to the point of him curling up into a protective ball in the lighthouse's watch room.

He wasn't taking care of himself like he should be, so that task often fell to Felix who was already plenty busy with his Bachelors program in Aerodynamics and his hobby of Aerial photography, the pictures produced both beautifully captured and detached from the subject matter, as if he was traversing a higher sphere and merely looking down on the world as an interested entity.

If Changbin was water and Jisung was fire, Felix was air – light and unburdened as he spread his young wings and took off to do good in the world, a feat he was admired for by everyone.

Even with all the freedom at the tips of his fingers, he had chosen to settle down with Chan, easing the older's wounds and making sure to check up on him as regularly as Changbin did.

''I know it is, but he's been dragging himself for a while'', Jisung mumbled, one of his hands hanging over the edge of the boat and grazing the smooth surface beneath. ''Maybe he should consider therapy?''

''Well, that's rich'', Changbin immediately gave back, possibly with a little _too_ much bite as he noticed Jisung's eyes flaring up, but before either of them could say anything, their boat docked at its designated spot in the harbor, and with as much ease as he executed everything that concerned fishing, Changbin made sure to secure it before helping Jisung out onto the pier.

The younger was wobbling the slightest bit as he led the way towards his home, having difficulties navigating his body after this long on sea, but his pride made him reject Changbin's offer to link arms and it didn't seem like he wanted to chat any further, so their journey was spent in silence.

The older took the time to let his gaze trail around the harbor and the many houseboats residing in it, mobile homes equipped with all the necessities of a normal house becoming a trend as apartments in the city rose increasingly in regards of rent.

To be able to afford an apartment these days Changbin might as well have become a lawyer, so he had settled for one of the rather cheap houseboats himself, the added bonus for him being that he was close to the ocean.

Minho found the prospect of living on a boat fascinating and was regularly hanging out at his place, though without any intention to get his own houseboat since he was fairly content with the tiny apartment at the edge of town he shared with Jisung. To each his own, he supposed.

It wasn't dark yet, so Changbin deemed it safe to let Jisung walk back to his place on his own after he had successfully escorted him out of the harbor, avoiding the busy crowds of people that were about to retreat into their boats and trying to make at least some kind of conversation with the younger even though he was obviously still pissed about that little comment.

It was Jisung.

He got worked up over the tiniest comments, but it would probably be fine by tomorrow, so he dismissed Jisung with a wave of the hand and a few words of goodbye before turning back around to deposit his stuff in his home.

It wasn't the biggest and fanciest houseboat in the harbor, simply because Changbin didn't like flexing his parents' money, but it was cozy nonetheless, the wooden exterior painted a dark blue and various windows that allowed the sun to filter into his place and supply him with the necessary warmth in winter.

They were less practical in summer, but that was what he had semi-automatic blinds and air conditioning for.

He unlocked the front door, casually waving at his next door neighbor – or rather next _boat_ neighbor – who was returning as well, before stepping into his self-made paradise, the dry summer air outside giving way to a cool and refreshing one inside.

His boat had all the flair of a comfortable country home, wood interior, soft couches with way too many pillows and stuffed animals, as well as bright and lively colors decorating his living room with integrated kitchen, making it an open and friendly space that was separated from the bridge – the place where Changbin could theoretically steer his boat if he wanted – with a sliding door.

A staircase at the end of the boat led up to the second level where his cabin and veranda were located, literally on top of his home and rarely ever occupied if Minho wasn't over and demanded to sunbathe there.

However, undoubtedly the coolest aspect of his houseboat was Changbin's bedroom which was accessible through a trap door in the bridge and brought him to the part of his home that was submerged under water, always illuminated by the blue of the sea.

He joked about _sleeping with the fishes_ all the time, but there was really nothing more satisfying than watching sparkling tiny fish flit in front of his – sealed! – bedroom window when he couldn't sleep.

His houseboat was great.

Unconventional, sure, but he had never backed away from experimenting with norms and turning them into something _he_ liked.

Tossing his fishing gear on the couch, he slipped out of his clothes and quickly hopped under the shower to wash away the sweat and exhaustion of the day before he got ready to pay Chan a visit.

It was dark outside by the time he reached his hyung's place of work, barely anyone out on the pier anymore, all safely tucked into their beds or letting the day die away with a book in their hands and a hot chocolate beside them.

Changbin had made hot chocolate too, though it wasn't for him and instead for the lonely protector of the ocean who sat high up in his watch room, selflessly guiding boats in and out of the harbor, if there even were any roaming the ocean at night.

Maybe his work was all in vain anyway, yet he still came every night to watch over the quiet body of water, just for the slight off-chance that there was a fisherman still out for a late night catch.

The walk up the stairs was tedious, even more so with a hot glass thermos and a mug in his hands, but he managed to make it to the watch room without causing a mess, carefully pushing open the door with his shoulder to see Chan standing in front of the windows, scanning the horizon with a look of concentration on his face.

To the left side of the room was a couch with a bundle of colorful blankets that hid Felix's sleeping form, only the steady rise and fall indicating that there was indeed someone under the mass of blankets.

Changbin set the thermos and mug down on the table in front of the couch, moving to stand next to Chan who only briefly glanced at him in an acknowledgement of his existence before continuing to stare wordlessly at the ocean.

His concentration seemed to have been broken by Changbin's arrival, drops of melancholy and pain seeping through his mask of professionalism, left-over reminders of the accident that Chan refused to disclose to anyone.

It wasn't Changbin's business to ask, but he cared for the older, so he tried translating his feelings anyway.

''It's a peaceful night, isn't it, hyung?'', he asked, a vague gesture towards the still ocean emphasizing his point.

Chan's brows furrowed as he analyzed the water's surface more extensively, trying to get it to reveal all its secrets to no avail, the dark blue unwilling to give anything away.

''Yes.''

The word trailed from his lips, lost in the wind and without any substance behind it as he had to turn away from the windows just in time for the light from the lighthouse to illuminate the ocean.

''He's not out there.''

Chan had a talent for speaking in riddles, such was the case today as well, but in much the same fashion as a broken record did, he only spoke the same sentences over and over, most of them simple and short, and he never strayed from the pattern he had decided for himself.

Changbin could ask whatever he desired, comment on everything that was out there in the world, and Chan's answers would not change in the course of time, even as his face, particularly his _eyes_ , attempted to relay an actual message to him.

Chan's eyes, his expressions, were the only thing that proved to him that the older wasn't just some sort of puppet without a will and instead a human being shutting himself off out of grief.

Changbin tried to talk to him every time regardless, grasping at conversation as if he wasn't talking to a wall that blocked his advances.

''Who is not out there?''

There was a gleam of sadness, a silent answer among unshed tears, before Chan turned around and went to grab the mug, pouring himself some hot chocolate.

''Felix took pretty pictures.''

It was a painfully mechanical and dry statement, but that was normal at this point, so Changbin nodded, more to himself than to his hyung, and sat down on the couch, listening to Felix's breaths and wondering where he should steer the conversation from here.

It didn't matter, for all he would receive would be the same answers, but there had to be some trick to getting Chan to say something else, after all he doubted Felix had the mental strength of putting up with a broken record 24/7.

Maybe Felix himself was the trick.

''How is he?''

He reached out to tug and adjust the blankets around the younger boy, hoping for a change of expression, but there was just that same concentrated, impenetrable facade he had seen prior. No chance of getting a genuine answer.

''Felix took pretty pictures'', Chan repeated and Changbin sighed in exasperation, yet relented anyway.

Fine, he'd talk about pictures if that was what his hyung wanted.

''Can I see them?''

The older's expression lit up, a smile appearing on his features as he nodded wildly, hurrying to grab Felix's camera from a shelf in the corner and almost shoving the thing into Changbin's face in excitement, wanting to show off his boyfriend's talents for capturing the beauty of earth from a bird's point of view.

It was certainly endearing, though it left a bitter taste in his mouth as he was shown various pictures, the same ones he always saw whenever Chan managed to get their conversation going the way _he_ liked.

Something about the routine seemed to appeal to him, so here Changbin was, examining the same pictures he had seen a dozen times before even though Felix should have taken at least a ton of other photos in the meantime.

Theoretically, he could ask the younger, the task of waking him up being a fairly simple one, but he doubted Chan would let him after the last time when he had angrily hissed at Changbin like a cat.

_''Don't wake up.''_

Primal and not even with correct grammar, Chan had torn him away from Felix with the simple warning that was weirdly eerie if he really thought about it.

It almost felt as if Chan had meant something _else_ , something that he couldn't express in any other way with the way his sentences were cutthroat and short, never allowing for any explanation or opportunity to really be _heard_.

Chan used to be someone who strived to be heard, someone who had a voice and wasn't afraid of calling people out with it or displaying the views in his head. Or giving encouragement. Or consolation. Or love. Or anything.

Because right now, what Chan was able to give was close to _nothing_ and as someone who loved to express himself, it had to weigh down on him.

''Why are you doing this?''

The older froze right as he was about to show off the next picture – if Changbin's brain recalled correctly, this had to be the one of the Great Barrier Reef – and stared at Changbin, some vague sense of relief and sorrow flashing in his eyes.

Maybe he wanted to stop too.

''You changed so much that I don't even recognize you anymore and I know damn well that it's not just because of some accident, so spill. What are you trying to achieve here?''

Chan's mouth opened and closed like a fish on dry land, clearly wanting to explain, to _talk_ , but not having the words in his body to form that explanation.

It was like Chan was trapped in his own body, a slave to some exterior forces that controlled him, but still retaining his thoughts and the desire to be heard.

An impossible feat, as his body wouldn't allow him to move in any way or get the words past his lips that _he_ wanted to say, but by heavens, he _tried_ and Changbin could see it in his eyes how much he struggled to convey his feelings, knowing there was no other way he would _possibly_ be heard.

The pause, the silence between them was unnatural, Chan's body eager to finally expel at least _something_ in reply to the question, and after a few painful, daunting moments, Chan visibly deflated, defeat reflecting in his eyes as a sentence spilled over his lips.

''Don't wake up.''

Changbin wondered what Chan really meant, even until late into the night when he decided to return home, accepting that there was no information to be received in this lighthouse at this point in time.

It didn't matter much, though he still told the older to call him if needed and Chan seemed to understand his words, even if his body didn't have a reply to them.

The way back to his boat was lined with doubts and mysteries, the splashing of the water against the many docked ships a pleasant background noise that carried his mind away like a drift bottle on the ocean and made him so hauntingly unaware of the gaze that lingered on him on his way home.

Changbin was normally pretty receptive when he was woken up by the unconventional alarm clock that was Han Jisung.

After years of the younger barging into his home in the early hours of morning and talking his ears off while waving a paper pag of delicious fresh pastries in front of his face, his body had gotten used to the strange ritual, more often than not making sure Changbin was already awake by the time his door was slammed open with all the excitement of a puppy that was being taken out on its daily walk.

He typically maintained a diligent sleep routine that didn't change much, so it was easy for his body to wake him up gently and naturally instead of subjecting him to Jisung's screaming, but courtesy to being out all evening and agonizing over Chan's behavior in bed until the early hours of morning, he felt like dying when he was roused from his well-deserved slumber by a harsh thud on the floor outside of his bedroom and the sound of Jisung cursing.

He was absolutely _not_ ready to deal with social interaction right now, so in an attempt to save his precious sleep – and his nerves, by default too –, he turned on his side and pulled the blanket over his head.

There was already a pounding headache somewhere behind his forehead and he dreaded getting up on less than his self-prescribed eight hours and pulling himself miserably through the day, but he knew that Jisung would kick him out of bed if necessary, so he didn't even try to let himself hope for any additional peace.

''Yo hyung! Good morning!'', Jisung chirped, barging into his room like he owned the place, bringing with him the fresh smell of powdery donuts and cherries that had Changbin's mouth watering in anticipation.

His day simply wouldn't start off well if there wasn't a pastry on his desk, the thought of having to resort to making his own breakfast so unappealing and boring that he rejected that possibility all together, reveling in the sweet sweet heavenly grace right in front of him.

He almost let the smell carry him off to dreamland again, though that choice was taken from him as Jisung threw his blanket back, exposing him to the glaring lights of his bedroom and doing nothing to keep his headache at bay.

He mumbled something about being comfortable, trying to turn back around, chasing his sleepyness, but it was in vain when Jisung shook the bag of pastries tauntingly, urging him to get up and secure one of them before the younger would shovel everything into his mouth.

Changbin had never seen him do that though, so he figured it was all empty threats anyway, but that didn't mean he had to risk it.

''Come on, get your ass out of bed! We have lots to do!'', Jisung announced, tugging at his arm impatiently, the action rousing Changbin fully, and he surrendered like he always did when it came to the younger, throwing on a shirt and some pants before following Jisung up into the kitchen.

''What are we even doing today?''

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he dropped on one of the chairs and reached for a pastry from within the bag, knowing he had full reign over what to take since Jisung always ate beforehand at home, praising Minho and his superior cooking skills wherever he could.

Changbin had tried taking lessons from him once, though had thought better of it when his jacket had caught on fire and the older had just stared wordlessly at the flames, watching the fascinating flicker without even a tiny hint of panic that Changbin was _literally_ on fire which had left him to put out his jacket himself.

To reiterate, Minho and fire was a deadly combo and he would be damned – and dead – if he ever forgot about that again.

Felix was quite handy in cooking too, maybe he should hit the younger up and ask him for some advice. It could simultaneously grant him some insight into what the hell was up with Chan.

''I have just decided that we'll go pick up shells at the beach!'', Jisung proclaimed loudly, the volume of which made Changbin groan as he picked apart the donut he had just taken out into tinier, bite-sized pieces.

''The beach is literally a three hour drive away.''

He didn't know why he brought it up when it wasn't really an issue with Jisung's brand new sports car, but he figured his sleep-deprived mind just didn't want to stray too far from home. Even if the beach was home too, just in another way.

''Well damn, excuse _me_ that there aren't many fun things to do at the harbor!''

As always, Jisung's temper was flaring like a wildfire, extremely exhausting to fight against, so he gave a dismissing wave of his hand, hoping it would spare him of any unnecessary fights when he was simply trying to enjoy his breakfast.

The donut was delicious, for it had the same sweet savory flavor as all of Jisung's candies did, the boy pretty much making all of them himself and giving them to Changbin for free when he literally had a whole ass bakery that needed to sustain itself.

Every now and then, he did accept Changbin's pay for the food, yet most of the time he tried to get around it by claiming that everything the older got was _leftover trash_ anyway, no matter how ridiculous that excuse was.

''Okay, okay, and what are we doing with the shells?'', he questioned, causing Jisung to let out a sigh as if it wasn't already obvious what they would do. Which it really wasn't, but that was beside the point.

''We're going to paint them, silly! And then we'll spread them out on the beach, so Felix can take a lovely picture!''

That didn't sound like half a bad idea, not to mention it gave him the perfect excuse to talk to Felix in private without the fear of Chan interferring in their conversation.

Speaking of which, he wondered if Jisung had even noticed at all that there was something up with the older because if he had, he wasn't being transparent about it.

''Sounds like a plan, Sung. By the way, have you noticed anything unusual about Chan hyung lately?''

Jisung's brows furrowed as he leaned against the table, intrigued and worried, his gaze focusing on one of the windows that faced the lighthouse.

''Such as?''

Changbin shrugged, following his gaze, taking in the innocent tower that stood tall and imposing as a guardian over the harbor.

It looked like nothing much, just some huge white stick at the end of the harbor whose job it was to guide ships safely to their destination, day in and day out in a monotonous routine safe for the few times where something _actually_ happened out on the ocean.

Those instances were getting increasingly rare as technology advanced and prevented such accidents at sea in the first place, but still, Chan was always on rescue duty anyway.

''He just seems rather... mechanical? Traumatized? At war with himself?''

He wasn't sure how to put it exactly, though Jisung seemed to catch on to his general idea, recognition flashing in his eyes as he nodded solemnly.

''Right... I did notice too'', he began, drawing every word out painfully long. ''But I guessed he was just tired, so I didn't give it much thought.''

Chan was always tired and they both knew it, but there was a fine line between being _tired_ and being... whatever the fuck Chan currently was. Heaven knew.

But if there was one thing for certain, it was that he wasn't tired.

''Do you think it's something serious?'', Jisung added after a few seconds of silence, gaze flickering between Changbin and the lighthouse. ''Should we check up on him?''

It was no use.

Chan's shift was over, so he was most likely already back at home to sleep which meant that there wasn't much information they could get out of him.

Even if he was awake, there was no reason to believe he was anything less of the broken record he had been the day prior, so Changbin shook his head, opting to trust Felix to take care of the older Aussie.

He finished up his breakfast under Jisung's watchful eyes, then fetched a few spare paintbrushes he had gotten as a gift from some peers in his Aquaculture major who had wrongfully believed him to be an artist.

Apparently the fact that he was studying Aquaculture wasn't enough to dismiss their beliefs that he liked to draw, but since the brushes finally came to use, it wasn't all that bad.

The sun was a bitch today as well, that much was obvious as soon as he stepped outside, and he grabbed some – Australian – sunscreen he had borrowed from Felix and never given back because the sun protection was _insane._

Well, it _should_ be, given how hot the country was, but once again, that was beside the point.

''Oh hyung'', Jisung piqued up as soon as they had set off towards the mainland, armed with brushes and sunscreen and of course the younger's candy. ''I invited some friends to help us, do you mind?''

''Are they pyromaniacs like you? Because in that case, miss me with your shit.''

Changbin loved Jisung and he also loved Minho, but he honestly didn't think he could deal with more than one of their fire-loving kind at a time if he strived to salvage whatever scraps of his sanity remained.

Luckily for him, Jisung shook his head, though he didn't miss the pout appearing on his features for the fragment of a second.

''Nah, Hyunjin and Seungmin are more into gardening and mapping and all those funny things, I don't think they're big on fire.''

''Thank god, sane people'', Changbin muttered, earning himself a slap on his arm and an insulted hiss, Jisung threatening to set him on fire if he kept his comments up.

It was all empty threats with Jisung, but Changbin acted his part of _scared friend that is very sorry for his mean comments_ to appease him and that was that.

By the time they got to the younger's car, Changbin realized for the first time that Jisung had really woken him up at the crack of fucking dawn, the digital clock that popped up on the navigation system stating that it was a little after eight – and already way too hot –, but he tried to make the best out of his situation by leaning back in his seat and taking a nap on their three hour drive.

No easy feat with the smell of paint in his nose – he would bet his right arm that one of the paint cans on the backseat wasn't closed correctly – and the obnoxious tunes that blared from the radio, as well as Jisung's random sing along, but he managed to doze off for a while regardless, his dreams full of the ocean and the drift bottle he had found on the waves all those years ago.

He was woken after what felt like a mere second of undisturbed sleep by the chilling sound of screeching tires and a violent jerk of the car that had his body jolting up in alarm, fearing that Jisung was about to get into a serious accident.

His vision was frustratedly blurry from sleep and his headache still hadn't subsided, but after a few painful seconds, he was able to decipher that they had come to a halt on an empty parking lot, no other cars around that Jisung could have crashed into and no obstacles safe for a lonely tree on one end of the lot that they weren't anywhere close to.

''Now that you're finally awake'', Jisung declared, looking real smug where he sat behind the steering wheel, which led Changbin to believe that he had stopped this abruptly on purpose. What a brat. ''You can help me carry the paint to the beach.''

Changbin mumbled some half-hearted protests, but heaved himself out of the car anyway after a few seconds, figuring since he was already here, he might as well help.

It was a wonder that the paint cans hadn't completely ruined Jisung's car, but then again, Jisung probably wouldn't mind anyway, given the suspicious stains of _something_ on the backseat, drying and eternalized in white.

He didn't have to be a genius to figure this one out.

''Clean your goddamn car, why don't you'', he remarked, not able to stop himself from letting the slightest hint of amusement into his voice as he hoisted a few cans out of the car, Jisung on the opposite side doing the same.

''Nobody ever sits in the backseat, so it's whatever.''

He shrugged mindlessly, slamming the door when he was sure they had retrieved everything, and the two of them took off towards the beach, the sea breeze seemingly colder than back at the harbor as it called them to the freedom of the open water.

It was a rather deserted beach, some property of someone vaguely important who probably didn't allow trespassing, but Minho knew his way around most rich people in the country, often pulling strings that had them agreeing to the conditions he set.

What those conditions were, heaven knew, and Minho didn't plan on revealing _business secrets_ either, but the sight that stretched out in front of them was definitely worth whatever shady promise the older had made.

Powdery sand greeted them after mere minutes of walking away from the parking lot, heated up from the sun and looking like the most gentle hue of gold.

The only marker of time was the sun above, the moments savored by the waves that wash the sands in white lace, crashing onto the shore with a light hiss before retreating to embark in their steady and frigid rhythm once again.

Their melody was pleasing to the ears, this music of water invading Changbin's being and charging his body with an energy that had to _go_ somewhere, so as soon as his bare feet met the sand, he was rushing towards the ocean, barely stopping to set the cans of paint down somewhere before he plunged into the blue-green water without hesitation.

A chill surged through him at the sudden coldness, though a small wave washed it away and he propelled himself further into the water, joyous laughter escaping him, the likes of which only the ocean could produce from him.

His clothes were getting all wet and the scent of salt was strong in the air, but he couldn't care less, and it was with a splash somewhere behind him that he knew Jisung didn't either.

Living at the harbor was great, but it didn't grant him the possibility to just throw himself into the water every now and then as regularly as he used to do back as a child, so he savored the feeling of the waves rocking him, as well as the steady bump of his necklace against his chest.

The sun was so unbelievably hot in the sky, but his body was submerged under the cool water, so floating around in the midst of the endless blue was bearable.

''Hyung, there are shells here!'', Jisung's excited voice had him looking down, discerning some shells splayed out on the sandy ground, and he dove underwater to grasp a handful of the tiny things.

The absolute silence of the ocean was overwhelming, even more so when he emerged from the water again and was immediately met with Jisung's shrill laughter about his hair that truthfully had to look like a mess right now.

The thought of dunking the younger under crossed his mind, but before he could follow through on that plan, there was a whistle from the shore, two figures standing in the shallow water and waving at them, seemingly those two friends of Jisung's that had agreed to help.

''Hyunjin! Seungmin! Hi!'', the younger called, giving Changbin's arm a tug as a signal to follow before he swam back towards the shore, eager to properly greet his friends.

Hyunjin and Seungmin were nice enough people, as Changbin had the pleasure of noticing when he returned to the shore as well, hair hanging wildly in his face and arms full of shells that he dropped next to the cans of paint.

Jisung had met them at his university, apparently weaseling his way into their group of friends even though Changbin found it incomprehensible to imagine how he had done so without scaring them to death with his fiery tendencies.

Seungmin was a Geography major, specializing in mapping out territories which was why he was acquainted with Felix fairly well since the boy shot the photographs for him and Seungmin made maps out of them.

Hyunjin on the other hand was an Environmental Science major trying to find out which field of work suited him best, relatively unsure about the future ahead of him as he tried out this and that in hopes that it would give him an epiphany, his free time mostly spent wandering in the forest or gardening.

They were pretty down to earth people, in so many ways unfitting for Jisung who often did things just for the heck of it, including setting fire to objects, but he guessed the old phrase _opposites attract_ still reigned true as he watched Hyunjin and Jisung exchange the latest news of what had been going on in their lives as they strolled along the beach to look for shells.

Changbin felt a little awkward being practically left alone with Seungmin when he barely knew the boy, but Seungmin compensated his awkwardness with initiative, dragging him back towards the water where they would find more shells quickly.

''How long have you known Jisung?'', the younger boy asked him, an unexpected graveness in his voice that didn't fit the question at all as he crouched down to inspect a patch of wet sand, digging slightly to reveal a red sea shell that had been hidden underneath.

It was remarkable how dead on target Seungmin was, but Changbin liked to believe this was a mere coincidence, if only for the sake of his own sanity.

''I've known Jisung for ages'', he replied, his gaze wandering over the ocean and watching the waves roll towards the shore in their own rhythm, relentless and impending as it was.

Chan had his own rhythm too, but he didn't know what exactly it was.

''He's a pretty eccentric guy, how did you two meet?''

''Oh, we met...''

Changbin's words trailed off all on their own, for he was too drawn in by the mesmerizing waves to grasp the right phrases from his mind, too overcome by the sparkling water and the colorful fish that inhabited it, by the whole world that was concealed from him and everyone else.

He briefly wondered how much was concealed from him even now.

''We met in highschool during detention. He was there because he set a chair on fire, I was there because I skipped school the day prior.''

Seungmin chuckled, the sound of it light and amused as he dug for another shell, Changbin finally dropping down and helping him with it before the tide would inevitably return and make it more difficult to seek the shells out.

''Talk about an unlikely match.''

''Definitely. What about you and Hyunjin? How long have you known each other?''

Halting his digging for a moment, Seungmin glanced up at the waves that lapped at the shore like a hungry hyena, not yet far enough to reach him, but still close enough to be a looming threat.

He seemed concentrated, in much the same manner as Chan, as his eyes narrowed at the ocean like it had personally insulted him, but when he spoke, his voice was calm and grounded, no trace of anger discernible from his words.

''Probably less than a year, but I feel like I've known him my whole life.''

There was an implication behind the sentence, an implication that should have been of fond nature or that should at least hold _some_ kind of further affection, but Seungmin made it sound apathetic and unimportant to the point that Changbin felt forced to ask.

''Do you love him?''

The younger seemed to have fully expected the question, prepared himself mentally for it just so he could convincingly turn to Changbin and lock eyes with him, guarded hesitation shimmering in his brown irises like coins at the bottom of the ocean.

''Yes'', he asserted plainly, the simple word without any substance behind it.

Chan. Just like Chan.

Changbin didn't believe him.

''No, I don't think you do'', he countered, watching Seungmin's reaction carefully to catch any little slip-up that could provide him with information just what was making him answer, _lie_ , like this, but the younger just shook his head, his gaze slowly dropping from Changbin's face to his neck where his necklace hung.

The reaction was instantaneous, his eyes widening in shock and misplaced relief and one of his hands coming up, almost as if to touch the piece of jewelry.

It hovered in the space between their chests for a minute, trembling, unsure, _afraid_ and eventually, Seungmin thought better of it and just dropped his hand to his side again, defeated and confused.

''Where... where did you get that necklace?'', he asked delicately, hesitating to get the question out as if there was some horrid realization at the other end of it, some buried truth that had plagued him for months now.

Unconsciously, Changbin's own hand closed around the two interlocked rings, the silver seeming to burn his skin away, accusing him of a crime he hadn't committed, for he hadn't _stolen_ the precious possession from anyone.

''I found it in a drift bottle'', he answered honestly, aware of how utterly unbelievable it sounded, but trusting that Seungmin would pick up on the truth in his voice.

Nothing changed in the younger's expression right away and Changbin shifted nervously, inclined to tack on a further disclaimer that he _really_ hadn't stolen it when Seungmin suddenly deflated in disappointment, nodding absentmindedly and scratching at the sand under him, the purpose of which was less to find shells and more to distract himself.

Changbin marveled which answer he had _wished_ for.

''Do you know the person the necklace belonged to?''

The inquiry struck Seungmin like lightning and he jolted, a vulnerable expression flashing in his eyes as he scanned Changbin's face, evaluating his trustworthyness, but before he could even open his mouth, there were footsteps on the sand and as they looked up, they saw Hyunjin sauntering over as if he had waited for exactly _this_ moment to break up their conversation.

There was nothing particularly suspicious about him per se, however, his body disagreed and he was hit by some kind of unnatural chill, goosebumps appearing all over his body as he watched Hyunjin approach them.

''Did you have success?'', was the first question out of his mouth, completely innocent and harmless, and Changbin gave a curt nod in reply, his hand still closed around the necklace in a sudden intuition.

Nothing good would come out of Hyunjin seeing it, he was sure of it, even more so when Seungmin resumed his digging in the sand, choosing to ignore his friend's presence for whatever reason he might have.

''Great, we found a lot too, so we can start painting the shells now!''

Somewhere further behind Hyunjin, Jisung was still happily collecting shells, having waded into the ocean to be able to find more, a massive pile on the shore announcing his success.

It somehow made Changbin self-conscious that he had chatted his time with Seungmin away instead of contributing towards their shared goal, but on the other hand he valued the information he had learned much more.

''We'll be over in a second'', he assured Hyunjin, just barely catching the fake smile on the younger's face as he turned around and stalked away, Changbin following him with his eyes until he was sure he was out of earshot.

''What the hell was that?''

Instead of answering, Seungmin shook his head again, letting out a shaky exhale and heaving himself up, the few shells he had collected safely in his arms as he hurried over to the others without so much as another glance at him.

Changbin had no idea what had made him react like this specifically, but he was getting a fairly strange vibe from Hyunjin, especially when Seungmin plopped down next to him like a docile puppy, avoiding any eye contact and just looking at the ground while the other male patted his head condescendingly.

Suddenly, he wasn't looking forward to painting anymore, but for Jisung's sake, he swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat down and joined their little group as well, just like Jisung himself who excitedly boasted about the amount of shells he had collected.

Painting went relatively smooth, with the occasional small talk stirred up by the awkward silence they coated themselves in during their work, and short breaks in between to munch on some snacks they had brought – Changbin gratefully accepted Jisung's share, as well as his candies, since he had neglected to bring his own – and before either of them realized it, the sun was setting on the waves already, coating the beach in a pretty golden glow.

It would have been the perfect light for Felix to take photos, but the younger had politely declined Jisung's invitation to come to the beach for reasons that were probably inherent to Chan's condition, so it was just the four of them in the warm sand.

The harmonious sound of the ocean filled Changbin's entire body, his soul completely at ease as he brushed over one of the dried shelves with his fingers, enjoying its new texture of paint, finding something calming in the way he could no longer make out the rills that had once been so prominent.

It was just one smooth surface now, just like the ocean, and simultaneously so unlike the ocean because it had been tainted with man-made material, made unrecognizable for all its shell friends that still resided in the sea, turned into something else just to please a human's selfish needs.

It was a lonely shell trapped in a world of paint and as the blue in the sky mixed with tints of oranges and reds, looking vaguely like watercolor spreading over a canvas, Changbin wondered if his world was made of paint too.

Jisung dropped him off at the edge of the harbor at half past ten, not trusting Changbin enough to make the short fifteen minute walk from the younger's place to here without falling asleep on the way – a reasoning that wasn't exactly unfounded given Changbin's lack of proper rest and the fact that he had almost stumbled over his own feet on the way to the car.

He really missed his bed, as well as the prospect of sleeping in tomorrow, but that hope was gone with the wind when Jisung eyed him with that sadistic gleam sparkling in his irises as soon as Changbin stepped out into the cool night.

''Say, hyung, a guy like you surely won't have any plans tomorrow, right?''

He had half a mind to be offended by the audacity of that statement and maybe punch Jisung in the face while he was at it, but of course that was all just wishful thinking, his heart way too golden to be annoyed as he wiped at his eyes, willing them to stay open for a little longer.

''I don't know why you had to phrase it like that, but yeah, I'm free'', he responded, a grin appearing on Jisung's lips that could _not_ mean anything good. ''But I'd really prefer to catch up on all the sleep you stole from me today.''

It came out a little accusing, credits to his overworked brain, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears anyway and he was proven right when the younger rolled his eyes, rummaging in his pockets for one of his candies.

''Jeez, have a pity candy, you old man.''

''I'm just one year older than you, literally shut up.''

He took the pity candy anyway. Free food was always nice.

Jisung merely scoffed playfully, leaning his head against the car window and looking up at the stars spread out on the sky, white dots painted on black paper in painstaking precision, conjuring patterns that only became apparent once the world really slowed down and _looked_.

Stars were more Felix's thing really. Chan's too.

Watching the constellations drift by above them felt like intruding on a well-kept secret, though he couldn't put his finger on what that would be.

''I'll shut up in a minute, but Minho will kill me if I don't tell you that you're going to spend the day with him tomorrow.''

Jisung didn't even have the decency to _ask_ if it was okay with him, he just decided that Minho was to spend the day with him, something he didn't necessarily have anything against in and of itself.

Still, pushing something onto him like that grinded Changbin's gears and the younger knew it.

''Why would I do that?'', he challenged. ''Can't you entertain your boyfriend yourself?''

As expected, Jisung rose to the challenge, a competitive fire sparking in his eyes.

''He's been whining about how much he misses you for days now and you're really gonna turn him down? What a cruel best friend you are.''

The best friend card was always a hard pass, able to induce guilt even if he knew that Jisung was doing it on purpose, and he groaned in displeasure, not having the mental capacities to argue about the truth of that statement after such a long day.

''Fine, whatever, he's always welcome'', he relented, defeat coming naturally and much more sweet than bitter, especially when he popped the candy Jisung had previousy given him into his mouth. ''Just _please_ try and persuade him to let me have my eight hours of sleep.''

''I'll consider it'', was the only answer he received in regards to his plea and they both knew damn well that it roughly translated to _It's more fun seeing you suffer_.

Whatever. He hadn't been expecting anything less from Jisung.

''I hope you step on a lego.''

''Love you too, hyung. Take care on your way home!''

The younger was off with a last gleeful smile and a smug aura, his car speeding into the darkness of the night and Changbin was left alone to his thoughts as he set off down the pier, a fair portion of houseboats only scarcely lit – if at all –, most people needing to get to work tomorrow while Changbin himself was still comfortably in the middle of his summer break.

It felt like he had been on summer break for all his life, days flowing into each other in a relentless stream of heat, sun and even more heat, only disrupted by the tranquil atmosphere on nights like these where the air was cold enough to really _breathe_.

Summer ticked away in front of him while at the same time not moving at all and it was rather fascinating how the world was assembled like some fairy tale just for him, the thought making his steps just a tad lighter as he headed home.

The way wasn't long by any means, namely three minutes from where Jisung had dropped him off, and he was stood in front of his door soon enough, though to his surprise and slight terror not completely alone as he had assumed to be at this time of night.

A boy was sitting on the pier right in front of his houseboat, legs dangling and hands on either side of him as he stared at the almost black water, seemingly in thought, for there was not a single movement on his end as Changbin carefully drew nearer, not necessarily scared, but wary nonetheless.

He knew that crime ran rampant in the harbor, especially since there was little to no security around here, so he was always ready to get jumped, but the way this boy had placed himself seemed a little too... blunt to be of sinister nature, most robbers preferring to use the element of surprise to their advantage by staying hidden until they were ready to strike.

This boy, however, was just peacefully sitting there, the wind messing up his pink hair, the strands perfectly distinguishable in the glow of one of the lamps that had been erected around the harbor.

Changbin took a moment to really examine his still figure, trying to determine his intentions and why he had chosen exactly this spot in front of Changbin's home to brood over something, though he pretty much lost all thoughts when the boy suddenly stirred in much the same way as someone would wake up from a nightmare, startled and perhaps a bit frightened.

As if having noticed Changbin's presence near him, he turned around, misty eyes searching surprised ones in what seemed like desperation, a silent prayer that Changbin couldn't make any sense of hanging between them.

It couldn't have taken more than a few seconds of them wordlessly staring at each other, unsure how to proceed, when the boy's eyes lost their haze and there was a wet shimmer of tears, the light reflecting as beautifully as the sun did on the waves.

''Changbin hyung...''

The mention of his name, spoken in frightened awe and fear, threw Changbin off for a few seconds, his brain scrambling to match the boy to a name, but there was a gaping void in his memories, no previous recollection of knowing this stranger anywhere to be found.

Was he a stalker perhaps? A criminal who acted on the surprise and irritation that stunned Changbin right now as he blankly gazed at the boy, unsure what an appropriate reaction would be?

The boy in front of him seemed hopeful in a very painful and dejected kind of way, taking a hesitant step forwards as his eyes scanned the older's features for any sort of recognition, and out of an instinct drilled into him by his own experience, he took a step back, wanting to keep distance between him and this – admittedly handsome – stranger.

''Who are you?'', he questioned, watching with a twinge in his chest how the boy's face fell in shock and bitter understanding, his figure freezing before he could take another step.

He bit his lip, eyes flickering from side to side nervously, frantically, _desperately_ , before they found Changbin's again, holding a waning sheen of urgency and restlessness that faded away like it had never even been there in the first place.

''It's me'', the boy answered, with a voice so weak that it was in danger of being blown away by the wind. ''Jeongin.''

Jeongin.

The word felt like a spell on his tongue, sounded like a song to his ears, but the sensation was fleeting, tinted with regret and melancholy, a reminder of days spent in bliss that he wasn't able to grasp.

His mind staggered, faltered, tripped, as it tried in vain to recall memories that had never existed in the first place, and for a second, there was a flash of grey and pink in front of his inner eye, a precious picture having bursted into flames.

He didn't remember. There was nothing there.

Jeongin seemed to realize that too, doubt and hurt flashing over his face, though these feelings dissipated abruptly when his gaze caught the silver necklace around Changbin's neck, his hand unconsciously going up as if to feel for his own necklace.

He was only met with bare skin.

''Hyung, you...''

He wasn't able to finish his sentence, the words trailing off in a sudden realization unknown to Changbin and he could feel the necklace burning itself into his skin like it was trying to drive home a searing pain he had already experienced in some way before.

''You really don't remember me, do you?''

He sounded pained, heartbroken in that way that only an intimate relationship could induce, but no matter how hard Changbin tried to will some memories into existence, they just wouldn't come, leaving him hanging in a state of frustration and misplaced remorse, both of which felt incredibly foreign in a situation like this.

For all he knew, this boy could be lying, and his brain was giving him the implication that he most likely did, but the accelerating beat of his heart, the ache in his fingers, the hitch of his breath suggested that there might be more behind it than that.

He examined Jeongin, really taking his time to study his soft, child-like features, reveling in the tiny jump his heart did as his gaze lingered on the boy's lips for just a single second too long, enjoying the pleasant shiver that ran down his spine as he focused on the boy's fingers, musing about the melody reverberating so beautifully in his head, a song played to him by the moving cogwheels of time.

His head was set on _no_ in regards to Jeongin's question, but his heart screeched _yes_ , clinging onto the faint melody as if his life depended on it, feeling its importance in his soul, as well as the cherished memories connected to it.

He couldn't reach out to discern them, but he could feel their presence warming him and as he met Jeongin's gaze, he could tell that the younger knew, the slightest hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

 _''A fragile flower sways in the wind''_ , he chanted along to the quiet tune in Changbin's head, completely in sync with his light and silvery voice, and the familiar, yet still so foreign tune almost had him choking up as he grasped for the lyrics, only finding emptiness in his mind.

_''A heart that doesn't connect sinks underneath the deep sea.''_

He made an intentional pause, testing if Changbin remembered the song, silently encouraging him to sing the next line, but when the older stayed quiet, unable to get the words past his lips, Jeongin sighed, delivering the next line with such a devastating finality that it almost swept Changbin off his feet.

_''Knots Way.''_

He felt like he should have remembered the lyrics.

There was this distinct feeling that they held a valuable meaning that the two of them had eternalized in their own way, that they represented a promise not meant to be broken, but he found it impossible to say any of that for certain.

He seemed to have forgotten something a long time ago.

And judging by Jeongin's defeated expression, it had been something precious, something priceless, something... _pure._

Something worth crying cristalline tears over, the likes of which slowly descended down Jeongin's cheeks, an unhindered symbol of his suffering as he turned away and stumbled down the pier, needing alone time as much as Changbin himself needed it right now.

Changbin was prone to wonder a lot of things in his life, but watching the boy go, hurried steps on wood sounding like claps of thunder in the complete silence of the night, he didn't _wonder_ whether something was wrong with the comfort of his world he indulged in all too willingly.

No.

This time, he _knew._


	2. The More Still They Run

''Ah, Binnie finally met a boy! Tell me _everything_!''

Changbin groaned in displeasure at the way too excited and prying voice of his best friend, too busy trying not to fall asleep and swallowing the newest pastry Jisung had prepared for him to keep up with the early morning talk.

He was still pissed that Minho had come barging into his room at six in the morning, completely ignoring his pitiful request to be left to his sleep for just five minutes longer until he had spilled why he needed that extra time, his words barely comprehensible behind some whines, but obviously more than enough for Minho to pick up on the fact that it had something to do with a boy.

He didn't think he had even mentioned Jeongin at all, though he wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally did, given how nonexistent his filter was when he was extremely tired – which he was, credits to Jisung forcing him to get up early two days in a row.

If this happened a third time, he was about ready to throw the younger into the ocean.

''Tell me, is he your type? Is he nice? Is he handsome? Is he cute? Is he?''

And that boyfriend of his could follow right after if he didn't learn how to keep his mouth shut.

Changbin already had a headache – or maybe his previous one simply hadn't gone away – and Minho's screeching wasn't making things better, annoyance reigning strong in his mind as he massaged his temples.

''Hyung, why are you even asking? You _have_ a boyfriend.''

''I'm not asking for me'', Minho argued, rolling his eyes as if it was the most ridiculous thing he had heard in his life, which, given Jisung, Changbin _really_ doubted. ''I'm asking so I can help you finally get laid!''

Minho's bluntness was, as usual, equal parts embarrassing and horrifying, almost making Changbin choke on the pastry as he felt the heat rush into his face.

He was so _not_ ready to have this conversation again.

The older had been trying to set him up with someone for ages, apparently not having anything to do in his freetime except play cupid for other people, drag his acquaintances to the shopping centre or break into Changbin's home whenever he wanted and felt like it.

He had gotten his lock changed three times by now, but did that stop Jisung or Minho from entering the boat?

No. No, it did not.

''I don't want your help'', he clarified, though his objection only caused Minho to let out a breathy laugh, a daunting and condescending look on his face as he leaned against the table.

''How cute, you really think you have a say in this.''

Minho was always big on imposing his decisions on everyone else, forcing them into doing stuff that was way beyond their comfort zone, and even though getting laid really _had_ been ridiculously high on Changbin's list for a while now, he didn't appreciate his hyung butting into his business.

Jeongin was cute, no doubt, definitely his type, but what he had said the day prior stumped him the slightest bit, ushered all thoughts of how pretty the younger was against the dark of the night out of his head, silenced his fantasies about what _could_ transpire because obviously, something _had_ already transpired.

 _''You really don't remember me?''_ , – or something of that caliber – he had asked, the question nagging at Changbin's mind relentlessly, though having faded a little in its importance since yesterday for reasons unknown to him, the words continuously slipping out of reach as if they themselves were a drift bottle in the waters that were his mind.

An event as recent as last night already ceasing from his perception was strange, even more so when he struggled to properly assemble any of Jeongin's sentences, most noticeably the lyrics of that song he had sung with his brilliant voice for Changbin, vocals fresh and full of youthful freedom.

The words had held meaning beyond their comprehensible nature, elegantly and skillfully hidden as if they were a precious treasure waiting to be discovered, but he floundered trying to recall any of them, his head wiped empty from the drowsiness of sleep and another force out of his reach that seemed to enjoy striking him repeatedly.

After all, he had forgotten before.

Jeongin had said so himself.

He couldn't count on the younger's word a hundred percent, yet there was some strange spark in his chest that told him he would do well to _listen_ , and to be honest, Jeongin _did_ seem vaguely familiar, just in a distant, hazy kind of way that had his head spinning if he dwelled on it for too long.

He was sure there was something to it, some truth to be found in his words, and he would work hard to find it.

''So, I worked out a detailed plan on how to get this cute piece of ass into your bed'', Minho suddenly declared and Changbin really did choke on his pastry this time, coughing like a maniac as he tried to expel the food from his throat.

The older just smirked, obviously proud of the reaction he had evoked as he pulled out a paper from his jeans pocket, unfolding it and showing it to Changbin with all the smugness of a stereotypical highschool jock.

''Want to know the first step of my five step program to lose your virginity?''

''No.''

''Fantastic'', Minho commented without missing a beat, seemingly too lost in that great plan of his to pay attention to Changbin's answer as he shoved his paper into the male's face. ''So step one is fairly easy: Shop at the mall and get you a new outfit because your wardrobe is literally fifty shades of black.''

That _was_ true and it wasn't the first time Minho called him out on his talent for always picking clothes that looked like they belonged to a funeral procession, but in Changbin's defense, he really liked dark stuff and if Minho was trying to get him all colorful anytime soon, he would have to do it over his dead body.

He didn't necessarily have an issue with his hyung taking him shopping though because that tended to be all kinds of fun, from buying the most ridiculous and ugly accessories for each other to petting cats at the pet store or even breaking into a spontaneous dance routine in the middle of the mall.

''And what'll be step two?'', he asked, more to humor Minho than out of genuine curiosity.

''Easy as well. We get wasted.''

How that would help with anything, Changbin had no idea, but god forbid anything came between Minho and alcohol. Or Minho and fire. Or Minho and Jisung.

Speaking of Jisung...

''What's your boyfriend up to today? Should I worry?''

The older looked up from his paper, half offended that Changbin was more interested in Minho's boyfriend than his potential own one, but his expression changed back to neutral almost right away, knowing the nature of that question to be an innocent one.

''Sungie is with Chan hyung and Felix. Chan hyung hasn't been feeling too well lately, so they're going to see a doctor.''

 _Not feeling too well_ might have been the understatement of the century, but Changbin didn't press it, grateful that Jisung had taken it into his own hands to get Chan to a doctor and also a little guilty for neglecting to check up on the older like he had been meaning to do, even if it had been in favor of his healthy sleeping patterns.

''Tell him to shoot me a text once they know what is up with him.''

''Bold of you to assume you aren't the first one he'll call anyway.'' Minho rolled his eyes, though judging by the playful tone of voice, he wasn't really upset that his boyfriend always spilled the tea to everyone else first. ''You're closer with hyung anyway. He's still scared of me.''

He said the last sentence with a hint of amusement and a great amount of hurt, still not having gotten over the fact that Chan for some reason avoided him as much as he could, almost to the point of it being manic.

Every single of their interactions was forced, built on a foundation of distrust, but Minho couldn't really understand where it had come from or how he could get Chan to drop the hostilities, and Chan himself was weirdly uncooperative regarding the matter.

Well, he was uncooperative regarding _every_ matter, the broken record that he was, but he hadn't _always_ been like this.

Long ago, he'd been a bright and lively guy, embracing everyone and everything on his lifelong journey to travel the world, one day here, the other there as he made sure never to stay too long in a single place.

He had seen so much of the world in his youth, a stray kid all around the world as he had once commented with a gleam in his eyes, and if anything, Korea had just been supposed to be another stop on his long list of countries he had yet to step foot into, another location to tick off before he would inevitably spread his wings again and take off towards a new adventure.

Changbin didn't remember how or when or where he had met Chan, but he knew he had sat at the edge of the beach with the older the day before Chan was supposed to take a plane to Hong Kong and he also recalled how heavy the atmosphere had been between them on that fateful day.

Chan had collected a few rocks, throwing them as far into the deep blue sea as he could, watching the tiny drops of water that jumped up and about every time a rock hit the smooth surface and disappeared for good beneath it, swallowed up by the unrelenting abyss.

_''I really do love him.''_

That single sentence had disrupted their moment of tranquility, Changbin turning to the older, examining his side profile, the thoughtful expression in his eyes as he weighed his longing for faraway on one side and the promise of a peaceful future with Felix on the other.

The decision to settle down was a heavy one for him who lived for the freedom that the world handed to him, but Changbin knew he would regret it if he didn't take his chance, his possibility of finding love and experiencing something beautiful together, in the winds of Korea.

_''If he makes you want to stay, I think you should. I'd have no objections either.''_

None of his friends did, all of them endeared by the stranger that had crashed into their lives with his stories of places far and wide, heartbreakingly sad and wonderfully ecstatic alike as they hung on his lips – Felix a little more in the literal sense of the word, but that was beside the point again – and admired his experience.

Chan was a welcome gust of fresh wind, bringing with him the smells of places none of them had been to and carrying the hopes and dreams of the countless cultures he had encountered on his way.

Settling down was like giving up all of those precious memories for just a single one he would share with a single boy.

 _''He makes me stay''_ , Chan confirmed, gaze still as concentrated as ever as he roamed the picture book horizon. _''Because I want to protect him from this.''_

_''This? What is 'this'?''_

Changbin had never received an answer to that question, only a pitiful glance from Chan as the older had heaved himself up and turned around without so much as another word, disappearing into the golden afternoon with words that would never get brought up again.

The conversation was still so vivid in his mind, simply for the mysteriousness of Chan's words, the way he had freely spoken, without any obligation to be the broken record he was soon to become, and in a cruel ironic sort of way Changbin couldn't shake off the feeling that it had been supposed to be a last warning, Chan fully knowing that he was surrendering himself to a vicious force, but still doing it to protect Felix.

And then, with his freshly trimmed wings and mind set on protection, the accident had struck him out of nowhere, quietly and devastatingly, turning him into the type of person he was today, reclusive, incomprehensible, wary.

Especially of Minho, even if there wasn't any logical reason of him doing so.

''I could talk to him and try to resolve this issue you two have going on'', Changbin offered, like the good friend that he was, and Minho gave him a thankful smile, days spent trying to talk to Chan rationally not having born any fruits and only aiding to harden their stances.

'' _I_ don't have any issues going on, but this hyung—'' Minho made a dismissive gesture, then shook his head, obviously not thrilled about going further into the topic. ''Well, it's not important right now. What _is_ important is that we'll get you a fancy outfit so you can impress J--... I mean... this boy of yours.''

For just one tiny moment, the fragment of a precious second, the older's gaze showed a weird kind of panic as he stumbled over his words, though he had himself under control relatively quickly as he shoved his piece of paper back into his pocket, impatiently tapping on the table as if to tell Changbin to hurry up with his breakfast.

He figured there were already late enough as was, so he shoved his plate with Jisung's pastries away despite not having eaten half of it, and just accepted his fate of being hungry all day.

How long could a shopping trip with Minho take anyway?

Well, as it turned out, it took quite literally the entire day, Minho dragging him from one shop to the next, forcing him to try out some new clothes here and pretentious jewelry there as he yapped about this and that, most of which revolved around sex, Jisung or sex with Jisung, way too many private details disclosed for Changbin _not_ to feel incredibly awkward and embarrassed on Jisung's behalf.

It was like Minho didn't get to chat much with his boyfriend at all and had now chosen Changbin as his counsellor for all things Jisung just because the younger always hung out at his place.

He genuinely tried to listen to his hyung's rambles for the first three or so hours of their trip, but just gave up after that, the mindless words rushing over his head as he tried on yet another leather jacket Minho had managed to dig up from a pile of secondhand jeans – however it had even gotten there – or watched the older scurry around the place to find that _one_ shirt he had remembered seeing here two and a half years ago.

Before long, the sun outside the mall was already starting to set again, most shops closing and more or less gracefully kicking their customers out, including Minho and him, bringing their rather unsuccessful hunt for a nice set of clothes to an abrupt end which had the older fuming and cursing of frustration on their way to the exit.

So much for that first step of the plan being _easy_.

Changbin didn't really mind that they hadn't found anything, firm in his belief that clothes didn't matter jack shit when falling in love with someone – which he was cussed out for by Minho – and grateful that his wallet had evaded a hard hit, but Minho was quite unhappy with how their day had turned out and whenever Minho was unhappy, there was only one way to cheer him up, so while he was sulking, Changbin secretly pulled out his phone, typing in Jisung's number and waiting patiently for the younger to accept his call.

It took longer than usual, probably because he was hanging out with Chan and Felix, but after what seemed like an eternity, there was a click and Jisung's voice filtered through the phone with all the liveliness of someone who had laughed so much today that he was overflowing with happiness, something that wasn't all that uncommon when it came to Felix.

''Yo hyung, get this, get this!'', he was immediately greeted, not getting a chance to say a word in edgewise before Jisung was rambling about his day. ''We made cookies, like a whole batch of cookies, like _so many_ cookies, you can't even imagine how many cookies we made, and then there's Chan hyung, eyeing our cookies very hungrily, and I was like _'Keep an eye on him, Lix'_ because I _know_ hyung and I don't trust him with these things.''

It was hard to imagine Chan showing any kind of euphoria with the way he was right now, especially after he'd been feeling so unwell that Felix and Jisung had to drag him to a doctor, but he was willing to give Jisung's story the benefit of the doubt. This once.

''So we're watching and nothing happens and then this hyung goes to sleep on the couch and we _think_ we're safe, so we leave the room for point zero three seconds and _you won't believe this_ , he somehow ate them all!''

As a matter of fact, Changbin _could_ believe that, Chan was known for being a big eater after all, but he was still sort of suspicious about the older behaving much more like his normal self all of a sudden.

''So I'm taking it the visit to the doctor went well?'', he asked and Jisung hummed in confirmation, excitement and joy audible in his voice when he spoke next.

''Hyung is all better now! Do you want to talk to him? He's asleep right now though, but I can get him--''

''Actually'', Changbin interrupted, dying to speak to Chan, but at the same time reminding himself why he had called in the first place. ''Let him rest, I'll visit him tomorrow. But I think Minho hyung is a little unhappy right now, can you do something there?''

''Of course I can!'', Jisung was quick to assure him, and in his mind, Changbin saw him making grabby hands, itching to hold Minho in his arms and make him happy by leaving dozens of tiny kisses all over his face, something that was as sappy as it was endearing.

Oddly enough, it reminded him of something all of a sudden, a strong sense of invaluable intimacy popping up in his mind, warm hands roaming his body teasingly, memories of holding and being held filling up a vacant space in his heart.

It was a warm feeling, gentle gestures of love and care in an empty room, but it was like a flash of lightning in a dark rainy night, only momentarily lighting up his surroundings before they were plunged back into darkness, the moment slipping between his fingers, leaving only a lingering and fuzzy sensation in its wake.

He tried chasing the bliss even as he passed his phone to Minho with a muttered ''There's someone who wants to talk to you'', searching for pictures, sounds, voices, _songs_ in his head associated with that warmness, but he was placed in front of a dead end, none of his thoughts coherent, just pitiful traces in the sand that didn't lead anywhere.

There was nothing there except the comforting warmth inside of him and while he enjoyed reveling in it, he wished he knew where this pleasant feeling came from, which forgotten memory of his had induced it and how he could make sure to eternalize it in his mind for real.

Because the feeling, as it was now, was fleeting like the tide, free and unbound from memories, retracting cheekily when he tried to grasp it, and by the time Minho dropped him off in front of his home again, having gotten over the shame of not being able to find a stunning outfit for him – thank you Jisung –, there was nothing left of that warmth, vacancy sitting in his heart once more.

Like a candle blown out, coldness consumed his insides, making him shiver in the evening air despite it being fairly humid still, the unyielding sun having given no relief from the intense heat today, burning everything and everyone into a crisp.

Well, except Minho, the boy obviously so used to everything hot that he had stridden along the hallways in the sticky mall like it was no one's business, not bothered by the overwhelming temperatures, but Changbin forced himself not to think about what cause that might have, lest his mind plagued him with some questionable bedroom images of Jisung and Minho.

The mere thought made him shudder as he pushed his door open, Minho filing in next to him with a few bottles of wine he had picked up on the way home, determined to follow through with step two of his program even if step one had been a failure.

''Alcohol makes everything better'', he declared, tossing the wine onto the couch in the living room and pulling out Changbin's laptop from where it was hidden under some pillows with all the precision of a hawk.

It was eerie that Minho knew where practically _everything_ in Changbin's boat was, even the stuff that the younger didn't necessarily want him to see, as well as stuff he had specifically moved to somewhere else to hide from Minho's prying eyes.

For the sake of his own sanity, he passed it off as him being transpicuous, but he couldn't deny that it was the slightest bit creepy as he watched his hyung set up everything for a Netflix and chill night, scrolling through the endless array of movies that were at his disposal.

''Binnie, what are you up for?''

Changbin shrugged, stepping in front of one of the windows that faced the pier and squinting into the darkness, trying to make out a silhouette, a figure that would step into the light of one of the lamps, looking familiar with the soft pink hair and a mysterious gleam in those beautiful brown eyes that told of numbing pain and heartfelt promises, tunes and lyrics eternalized in blue and black ink, hushed voices in an interplay of desires and useless dreams and so much more.

He saw so many emotions and memories reflected in those eyes, even just when he recalled them like this, and it made him want to gaze into the endless expanses of Jeongin's soul even more, a desperate chase for answers he had been made to forget.

However, the boy wasn't out there, the pier deserted and lonely in front of his window, merely the light from the lighthouse brushing over it every now and then, a clear white that contrasted to the lamps and their soft yellow.

Changbin hadn't had any reason to believe that Jeongin would seek him out again, especially since the younger had so clearly been upset about him not remembering who he was, yet he was still disappointed nonetheless as he gazed at the numerous boats he could faintly make out, hoping Jeongin would emerge from them any second now and make his way over to him.

Nothing happened.

Well, clearly whatever history he shared with the younger wasn't _that_ important if he didn't even bother to turn up a second time

The bitter taste of resentment heavy on his tongue and the irritating tune of the song Jeongin had adorned with lyrics playing on loop in his head, he turned away from the window, finding Minho to be looking at him with a blank expression that gave absolutely nothing away.

Changbin briefly wondered how much the older knew, the thought exploding in his head as if lightning had struck him, and for a moment, he saw grey flash around him, his lungs struggling to properly expand, something pressing down uncomfortably on his chest, on his arms, on his heart.

''Binnie?''

Minho was on his feet in the matter of two seconds, his voice resounding across the space like it had never done before, the noise stabbing his ears and igniting an urge in his body to _run_.

He didn't even know _where_ , he just wanted to run and never look back, deeming everything better than staying in the _hellhole_ he was stuck in, and as soon as the thought crossed his mind, it made him physically jolt, grasp onto Minho as soon as the older was in his reach because _what the hell?_

Since when had he thought of his home as a _hellhole?_

Despite the grip on his body, he suddenly found himself falling, falling into an unknown abyss with no way to brace the impending impact, and even as Minho urged him to sit on the couch and take a few deep breaths, all that reigned strong in Changbin's mind was the single order sent by his brain to every part of him.

_Get out of here._

Where? Why?

Changbin had no way of asking, no way of getting answers, no way of stopping his fall, so he held onto Minho for dear life, body heaving and shaking while the older was panicking, completely thrown off by his behavior as he awkwardly tried his hands at gestures of comfort.

''Binnie, oh my god, Binnie, what's wrong?''

He didn't know what it was, but the simple question had him breaking down in his hyung's arms, bottled up fear, frustration and anger that he couldn't deter the root of seemingly spilling out of him in the form of big, heavy tears, the stream burning on his cheeks and blurring his vision into a scale of grey and red.

It was as if he wasn't even back at home anymore, instead somewhere far away where the sun wasn't warming him and the constant lapping of the waves against his boat didn't exist, so in response he clung to Minho even more desperately, trying to ground his mind back into the here and now.

His body ached and hurt all of a sudden, a prickling sensation making its way from the side of his neck to the rest of his body, and he gasped for breath, acutely aware of the thundering heartbeat in his chest and the single word spilling from his lips, a subdued cry for consolation, a mantra of his agitated mind boiled down to his most pressing of needs.

''Jeongin...''

The image of the other boy was so clear in front of his inner eye, his song engrossing Changbin's entire being in a cozy and protective layer that he snuggled into as if it was a blanket.

Those warm eyes sparkling whenever they looked at him, the secretive smiles exchanged during their fleeting visits, the lingering touches, _kisses_ , it all came back razorsharp like someone had finally focused the camera of his life, turning the blurry and unmeaning scenery into _truth._

He... he really wanted Jeongin.

He needed Jeongin. His smile. His angelic voice. His song. _Their_ song.

The lyrics resounded in his mind clear as day, the melody they had thought up so long ago in sync with their heartbeats, a proof that even though they weren't okay, they could still go on.

They would still aim towards each other.

Occupied with ugly sobbing and crying that stemmed from his desire to see the younger, he barely noticed how Minho brought up something to his lips, softly prodding to get him to open his mouth.

''Here, take this, it'll help you calm down.''

Where he had pulled the little pill out, Changbin didn't know and he didn't give it much thought either, his body reacting automatically in a feeble attempt to grant itself some relief from the overflowing sensations that he couldn't comprehend, the memories that threatened to blow up his head and the pressure on his chest that restrained him.

Grey flashed in front of him again, as brief and haunting as he would have expected, and he was vaguely aware of the wet trail on his cheeks that he didn't have any capacities to feel embarrassed about before he was falling again, this time towards the unconsciousness of a slumber with only a single thought, a single face, a single person swimming around in his mind, their identity an all-encompassing mystery he wanted to unrevel.

He woke to an all-encompassing darkness and unnatural silence that weighed heavily on his chest, his head feeling as if someone had stuffed cotton into it and the beats of his heart plodding irrationally and painfully in his ribcage.

For a moment, he had no idea where he was, even as he stared at the ceiling of his houseboat, grasped at the soft pillows underneath him, felt the chill of cold night air from the open window, and the panic surged through him, pressure building in his head before the familiarity of his own home really registered with his tired memory.

He struggled to keep himself calm for another minute or two, his gaze wandering through the darkness, trying to discern one shadow from another while also attempting to spot Minho somewhere in the void, his voice not yet stable enough for him to call out to his friend.

He knew the older had been here when he had fallen asleep, typically wanting to stay with him to make sure everything was alright, but it didn't seem as if he was around this time, the lights all flicked off and shrouding his lovely living room in such an intense black that it felt almost unnatural.

Heaving himself up from where he had rested on his couch, Changbin blindly reached out in the nothingness that surrounded him, hoping he would feel Minho's sleeping body somewhere close to him, but when he was met with no resistance at all, he couldn't help but start to worry.

Minho wouldn't leave him like this when he _knew_ that Changbin was sick or riled up and the fact that he didn't seem to be around pointed very strongly to the possibility of him either playing a trick – which was not beneath him, but still, Changbin liked to think Minho still had _some_ amount of decency to not scare the shit out of him – or something being majorly _off_ about this situation.

The darkness wasn't all that comforting either and he stumbled towards where he knew the light switch to be, goosebumps appearing all over his arms as a strange sensation of being _watched_ overcame him, his paranoia spiking for reasons unknown to him.

Was there someone in here with him? A robber? Kidnapper? Murderer?

Or was this his hazy mind acting up, projecting dangers where there really weren't any just for the sake of torturing him?

Because in that case, it was doing a damn convincing job, his rabbit-paced heartbeat pulsing in his temples, his eyes darting through the darkness despite not seeing anything and his hands shaking as they searched along the wall, desperate to find the relief that would make it all go away, the light that would chase away the demons in his mind.

The smooth surface of painted wood scraped his sweaty palm and he did his best to drown his rising anxiety of not being able to find the light switch as his movements became more erratic, more grand, more distressed, none of it helping him to locate the object of his desire.

Where the hell was that damn thing?

His breathing echoed way too loud in his own ears, penetrating the eerie silence, setting every single fiber in his body on edge as he scrambled for the _damned_ light switch, feeling nothing but wood, wood and more wood under his touch.

Until his fingers grazed the texture of warm skin.

It almost felt like ice to his flushed body, but he barely registered that fact over the exploding fear and panic that had him opening his mouth in a silent scream, no sounds able to filter out as something, some _one_ moved in the darkness, a spider coming to retrieve the fly that had been caught in its net.

Changbin backed away, his foot catching on some random lamp and sending it to the floor in a clanking mess, but he didn't hear it over the sound of his hyperventilating mind screaming at him that he was going to die a slow and horrific death.

He braced himself for the sharp pain of a knife entering his stomach or the unmistakable click of a gun or even just the impact of someone's fists on his face, but whether for better or worse, he was permitted to live another second, although the single step on the hardwood floor sent a shiver of terror through him.

He was dead. He was so dead.

Taking a frightened step back, he held up his hands, aware that it wouldn't do anything, but too terrified to think straight and at least _try_ to defend himself from whatever would happen now.

''I--...''

His voice caught in his throat, miserably weak and hoarse from sleep as it was, and in any other situation his pride would have prevented him from speaking altogether in such a state, but any remnants of pride he might have were blown out of the window at the prospect of getting killed in his own home.

''Please don't.''

Maybe it was his pathetic tone of voice, maybe it was a deceiving gesture, but nevertheless, his intruder hesitated, and Changbin didn't waste a breath wondering why that was as he made a mad dash towards the door, needing to get out while he still could.

The way couldn't have been more than a few steps, just a few quick strides, just a few panicked breaths, yet for some reason, the space he moved in didn't feel like his home at all anymore, the door seemingly not getting closer as he reached out for any sort of indication _where_ the hell he was.

Had he been kidnapped?

His hands grasped at nothingness, the room he was in too vast and wide, and his mind reeled as it tried producing a solution, an explanation for whatever the fuck was happening right now and where the fuck he was.

''Changbin hyung.''

The familiar voice sent a chill down his spine, his body reacting on an instinct adapted through days spent separated from each other, yearning and longing for any sort of closure, for any simple moment graced with each other's presence, and he turned around despite the veil of darkness still obstructing his vision.

Jeongin. It was Jeongin.

Just Jeongin.

A part of him was overcome with a relief so strong that it drove tears to his eyes and made his knees weak, yet the other wasn't as naive to be lulled into a false sense of security like this, remaining wary, careful even as he heard the younger approach.

''Hyung'', he repeated, once again speaking with a purpose and an urgency that Changbin couldn't comprehend. '' _Wake up_.''

Wake up?

He didn't understand the order, the simple plea that was laced in so much worry and hurt that it made his soul wail in pain that wasn't his.

''From what?'', he breathed, breathless and gasping all the same, crushed by the darkness that persisted around them, veiled Jeongin's expression even as Changbin had a vivid picture of it in his head, the younger frustrated and on the verge of angry tears.

He didn't receive an answer, safe for the shaky exhale that sounded so broken that he felt sorry for supplying the question he had, even if he knew it was better to be truthful in a matter such as this.

He wasn't able to grasp the entirety of this matter, but from the little he _could_ gather, he concluded that it wasn't a pretty one, and it would be nothing short of mockery to deceive Jeongin.

In the face of beautiful lies, he chose the hard truth, and even if he wasn't rewarded for it with anything except the disappointed sigh of someone who wanted to make him remember, he liked to imagine that it was the right thing to do.

''From this'', Jeongin finally replied, in the miserable voice of someone who was helpless and hopeless in his endeavor, and Changbin was about to ask him to specify what _this_ was when the flick of a light switch illuminated the room, white light flooding him and drowning him in a sea of grey.

There was so much grey.

The lights were bright, almost painfully so, and there was so much grey, only contrasted by the pink of Jeongin's hair that seemed to have suffered from grease and dirt, but still shone brightly, brilliantly.

Jeongin _himself_ shone with such a dazzling radiance, like a guiding star in the darkest night spent its glow on poor travellers lost in the world, and in such a light, Changbin could clearly see himself reflected against a canvas drawn in painstaking accuracy that held no virtue except the fleeting fantasies of its creators.

Nothing could penetrate this canvas except the harmonious melody of Jeongin's song and as the younger realized it, the words spilled from his mouth in an effort to make him _understand._

To make him _wake up_.

_''In this moment, sleep opens its eyes.''_

Jeongin's voice washed over him, vibrant and pleasant as the boundless sea, lively and passionate as the fire that fed him, light and clear as the summer breeze, stable and fresh as the earth that nourished life.

Changbin's entire body tingled in response to that voice, wanting to fall into it and create a safe haven in a space they had once shared so warmly together.

They both missed the space, but were well aware that it was already lost.

_''And a miracle leads the two from despair to the light.''_

''I miss you so bad, though you are nowhere to be seen'', Changbin finished the verse unexpectedly, surprised about himself and the way the lyrics flowed so naturally when he had shown such difficulty recalling them before, but he was grateful for the miracle as Jeongin's eyes lit up across from him.

The song undoubtedly was dear to his heart and him remembering such a crucial and precious part of their relationship seemed to take a heavy load off his shoulders, one that he probably would have collapsed under if he had been forced to continue carrying it around with him.

''Hyung'', he breathed, afraid to speak too loudly in case it would rouse Changbin from the epiphany of his words. ''How much do you remember?''  
The question was equal parts hope and repressed fear, so Changbin thought hard to grasp whatever small memory he could obtain from his unreliable mind, not wanting to let Jeongin down again.

A swirl of grey and pink in his mind made him dizzy, his head hurting as blurry pictures regained their focus, telling him nothing and everything at the same time, a useless and shattered fragment of his world.

He saw grey stone walls, grey stone floors, the only specks of color being the crimson liquid that was smeared all over them, a gruesome story told from torture and pain, but simultaneously, and as paradox as it sounded, the beginning of hope.

The beginning of something beautiful in an ugly and repulsing place, the beginning of promising whispers and shy giggles in a fabricated silence, the beginning of pink among the walls of grey.

''I remember...''

He heard himself talking without his brain having given any explicit permission, his mind derailing from the rest of his body, defying unspoken rules that had chained him down without knowing.

He could _talk._

For anyone else, it might have not been a revolutionary finding, but for him, it was as if he had risen up from that deep ocean of fabricated silence once more, his mind set on returning to the shore even while his body struggled to stay afloat.

''I remember the facility...''

His gaze met Jeongin's in a wish for confirmation and the younger nodded, encouraging him to keep going as the first hint of a smile ghosted over his face.

Changbin stared at him, drawn in by his beauty, drawn in by the prospect of bearing witness to one of the stunning smiles that were oh so rare, but treasured on the occasions that they did appear, covert and reticent, exchanged with love and the promise of something better.

Jeongin had always dreamed of something better, back at the facility where nothing mattered except the decision of when to call it quits, where there was no hope of love or freedom, of light or life, of sea, fire, earth or air.

Like pictures in an album, like the photos on Chan's camera, the moments Changbin had spent surrounded by grey flashed in front of his inner eye, none of them meaning anything, but all of them meaningful simply because of Jeongin.

Because of the way he would lean on Changbin when he was convinced the older was asleep and wouldn't notice, needing comfort despite always denying himself of it.

Because of the way he interlaced their hands, rough and split skin blatant evidence of how they were treated, while the shimmer of _hope_ in his eyes told of unwavering strength.

_''We're not yet broken, hyung.''_

The sentence was like the cold hard walls of a prison cell and the promise of a meadow full of flowers at the same time, a heart-shaped locket on the steel chains that kept them there.

_''What are you talking about? What hope is there for us?''_

It wasn't the first time he had tried to kill himself, hazardously tying a noose from the cord that random boy had handed him in the hallway so blatantly while staff was in plain sight.

Staff didn't mind them dying. Staff didn't care.

Changbin could have theoretically asked _them_ to kill him and they surely would have obliged to his request, but he'd never been fond of strangers butting into his business, so he prepared his death with his own hands.

_''You'll never know if you stop now.''_

Something about that statement, something about Jeongin's almost sheepish voice, struck him in the chest, made him turn away from the makeshift noose, from his plan, from his escape.

_''Where do you take your determination from?''_

Instead of answering, the younger tilted his head, humming a familiar melody under his breath and offering a hand to Changbin as if that was all the explanation he needed.

Somehow, it had been.

''The facility'', Jeongin repeated, expression having turned back to somber as a token of his fear that Changbin would forget again. ''Do you remember what they did to you?''

Changbin barely registered the question over the wave of bitter happiness that washed over him, the knowledge that he wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for Jeongin and his song, the gratitude that he felt from the younger staying with him, easing his wounds and helping him up, the joy he had experienced when their relationship had tipped so abruptly, yet scarily smoothly from friends to lovers.

And back to strangers.

Because Changbin forgot. He forgot.

Tearing up slightly, he took a few hurried steps to the younger, taking in his surprised expression, but not paying it any mind as he enveloped Jeongin in a hug that was probably crushing and painful, but filled with so much fondness that it took his breath away.

He couldn't even begin to understand how devastating it had to be for Jeongin to look at him and only receive a blank stare in return, the realization that Changbin didn't remember him probably more crushing than any hug ever could be.

''I'm sorry I forgot'', he whispered, a delicate secret not meant for anyone else's ears as he tightened his grip on Jeongin. ''I'm sorry I forgot the best thing that ever happened to me.''

For a moment, there was no reaction, just stunned silence penetrated by their breathing, before Jeongin started to quake in Changbin's hold, sobs spilling from his lips even as he tried to stop himself, having never been one for showing any kind of emotional weakness.

His hands came up to rest on Changbin's back before he reconsidered and moved them to the older's hair instead, cheekily running his fingers through the strands in a gesture that was half comfort and half assurance.

''It's okay'', he managed to get out inbetween his sobs, shaking his head as best as he could to emphasize his point. ''I had so much hope that you would remember.''

The words positively broke Changbin's heart and he could feel his eyes sting, the first tears descending on their journey as he buried his head in Jeongin's shoulder.

Despite the euphoria that came from finally being able to recall memories without them slipping through his fingers, he couldn't seem to be able to get his mind completely off everything negative and just enjoy the moment.

There was still a pressing sadness, still a gap in his memory that simply wouldn't fill and even though it pained him, he knew this wasn't the end yet to his task of discovering himself.

''Innie.''

The nickname came naturally, melting on his tongue like fluffy cotton candy and leaving behind a sugary sweetness that left him longing for more.

''How did we escape the facility?''

Jeongin's breath hitched, his sobbing dying down in an instant, only his trembling shoulders an indication that he was still crying as he shifted nervously in Changbin's hold.

''We...''

He seemed to choose his words carefully, weighing the options in his head as if there was a _wrong_ answer he had to avoid, but before he could actually say anything, there was a harsh and cold gust of air that made both of them shiver, and Changbin separated from Jeongin and turned around so he could have a clear view of where the wind had come from.

There, in the doorframe, stood someone Changbin remembered all too well, someone who had materialized out of nowhere right behind them.

''I don't think this is something to discuss right now.''

The voice was just as cold and chilly as the wind and the boy's eyes weren't any better, seeming almost sadistic as they focused on the pair like he was trying to think of ways in which he could torture them.

Without even being aware of it, Changbin moved in front of Jeongin protectively, as he had done time and time again back at the facility, though it only earned him a scoff and a grin from the guy in front of him.

Hyunjin.

''What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'', Changbin spat. ''Get the fuck out of my house!''

Hyunjin's grin only seemed to widen at that, but he shrugged nonchalantly and held up in his hands in a sign of surrender before swiftly turning around.

''I was just stopping by anyway.''

So that was what breaking into other people's houses was called? _Stopping by?_

Changbin felt the urge to go up to Hyunjin and punch him in the face for that comment, but was held back as Jeongin gripped his arm in a silent warning, obviously knowing something that Changbin didn't if his scowl was anything to go by.

''Oh, but... hyung?''

The casual way he spoke the word made the older fume, though before he had a chance to snap at Hyunjin to shut up, the younger looked back over his shoulder, impossibly smug as his eyes were trained on the necklace around Changbin's neck.

He immediately brought a hand up to cover it, not that it did much aside from spawning an uncomfortable feeling as the silver burned into his skin.

''I think you might want to check on Chan hyung'', Hyunjin simply advised and that was all it took for Changbin to throw himself forward and grab the younger, turning him around with all the ferocity of a wild animal, the likes of which even Hyunjin himself was surprised to experience as he blinked in confusion a few times.

''What did you do to Chan, you bastard?!''

The thought of Hyunjin laying even so much as a finger on the older made Changbin see red even though he knew that Chan was more than capable of defending himself, and the ever-present grin was like fuel to an already roaring fire.

He wasn't a violent person by any means, but he wouldn't let anyone get away with harming one of his closest friends either and really the only reason Hyunjin wasn't knocked out of his fucking mind yet was because Changbin needed him to spill what he had done.

However, Hyunjin was silent, eyeing him in that condescending and triumphant way, and right before Changbin's anger bubbled over and he could beat the everloving crap out of this guy, Jeongin tugged him outside into the dark night with a mumbled ''Leave him, he's not worth it'' and a hiss at Hyunjin.

They both immediately took off running towards the lighthouse, thankful for the lamps that illuminated their way and the occasional beam of white light that swept over the harbor, giving the place a ghostly and creepy flair, especially so late at night when nobody was on the pier anymore.

It was eerily quiet too, save for their thundering and oddly synched footsteps that sounded like a haunting echo of something they had already experienced before, yet Changbin didn't get to dwell on it when a scream suddenly reached his ears, high-pitched and terrified noises carried over to him by the wind.

It wasn't Chan's voice, which was an initial relief for him, but when he realized just who _was_ screaming, it made the realization all the more morbid, catapulting his brain into overdrive, making him run faster towards his destination, knowing it was a matter of life and death.

''That was Felix screaming'', Jeongin panted next to him, and Changbin had half a mind to ask how the younger even knew Felix to begin with, but figured it wasn't important right now.

Later. They could talk later.

The lighthouse came into sight, tall and imposing as ever, though Changbin's attention was instantly drawn to the top of the tower, the light enabling him to discern two figures against the darkness of the night, presumably Felix and Chan.

Even though they were nothing more than shadows from all the way down here, the blood in his veins turned to ice anyway when he realized just what was happening; when he heard the tiny noises of distress from Felix, the metallic vibrations of something, _someone,_ being pushed against the metal railing, the screams of someone who very well _feared for his life._

It was all too clear what was happening and still, for a terrific moment, Changbin could do nothing but helplessly stare up at the platform that was a good hundred meters above him, his mind spiraling into panic as he watched the struggle unfold.

He wasn't sure if it was possible to survive a fall from this height, but he'd rather not find out like this, so as soon as his muscles allowed him to move, he sprinted into the lighthouse, the spiral staircase he saw himself faced with like a taunting sign of his very likely failure.

He didn't have time to ponder whether he would make it in time or even if Jeongin was still following him as he began his ascend at record speed, almost tripping over his own feet, his heart pounding a mile in his chest.

Each step seemed to reverberate through the lighthouse like a clap of thunder, simultaneously sending a bolt of lightning through his body that pushed him to run _faster, faster,_ _ **faster**_ even if it physically wasn't possible.

He didn't know what he would do if he got to the top and Chan had already pushed Felix to his death, but he tried not to think about that scenario too much as he climbed the stairs, instead focusing on his steps and the rhythm he had set for himself.

His nerves were absolutely frayed by the time he reached the watch room and the absolute silence he was greeted with only made his anxiety rise even more, but he pushed through the feeling, nearly kicking the door down in order to get into the room.

His eyes frantically scanned the room as he hurried over to the glass door that led to the platform outside, and in doing so, his gaze fell on Jisung who was curled up on the couch, unconscious and unmoving, seemingly knocked out by Chan beforehand.

He had planned this. He had planned to kill Felix.

So much about _being all better_ , like Jisung had claimed.

Chan was still a mess.

Changbin pulled the glass door to the side, a fresh and cold gust of air that almost smelled of blood greeting him as he stepped outside, the silence of a beautiful summer night pressing heavily on his chest, choking him with the awareness that he was too late.

Felix was nowhere to be found on the platform, possibly having met his untimely end at the foot of the lighthouse, and Chan was just standing behind the railing, looking up at the sky and the many stars sprinkled across the nightly canvas.

He looked neither particularly regretful nor particularly relieved about what he had just done and the apathy was so far from resembling _Chan_ that Changbin couldn't help but shiver as he approached the older, careful and uncertain if he should even try to confront him at all.

''Hyung, why?'', he asked before he could make up his mind, noticing his unstable voice and the way he sounded choked up despite not even really knowing Felix.

He didn't know for certain if the younger was dead, but something in his gut told him he was, the realization pricking into his heart like a thorn as he wiped at his eyes where some new tears had formed.

He didn't understand.

Chan had never been someone to hurt other people, especially not Felix who meant the world to him, who was the sole reason Chan had even stayed in Korea, so seeing him driven to murder by some force that was out of Changbin's reach was all if not horrifying.

The carefully crafted image he had of Chan was gone just like this, blown away with the wind, and no matter how much time passed, he knew this very moment would stay etched into his mind forever, the details of what had gone down repulsing and disgusting.

''Why did you kill him? I thought you loved him.''

There was no bite in his voice because no matter how much he wanted to scream at Chan, run up to him and beat him into a pulp for doing something so horrendous to the person that used to be his whole world, the respect he held for the older, as well as the bond of trust they had built were still anchored deeply in his mind.

Even after Chan had murdered his own boyfriend in cold blood, Changbin still respected him.

It was both pathetic and hysterical, angry tears mixing with the ones of grief while Chan's motionless form was adoring the sky as if it was any other romantic evening, and after a long minute of contemplation and internal conflict, Changbin could bring himself to stand next to the older, looking down instead of up.

He drew a blank at the possibility of recognizing Felix from up here, but stared at the all-consuming darkness below anyway, trying to breathe with the lump in his throat and the thoughts in his head of what might have been the younger's last emotion.

Fear? Hurt? Anger? Betrayal?

''He's not out there'', Chan suddenly spoke up, repeating words Changbin had heard before, yet he still glanced at the older, catching the glassy and distant expression in his eyes that contrasted the rest of his pokerface so unnaturally.

He looked completely unbothered, but his eyes told a different story, one of pain that ran so deep that it held his heart in an icy grip and of repentance for doing something he didn't even want to do at all.

He seemed _controlled_.

A marionette dancing on its strings that was so dependent on them that it was floundering when its puppeteer wasn't there.

Puppeteers, more likely.

''You killed Felix.''

Chan was still watching the sky, but Changbin didn't miss the flash of raw emotion in his eyes or the way he had to close them to ground himself, probably feeling vulnerable and exposed, guilty and lost, hated and broken, though that was just an assumption based on what Changbin _wanted_ him to feel right now.

He wanted to see at least _some_ remorse for what the older had done and while he did notice tears brimming in Chan's eyes, they never made it out before a wail came from behind Changbin, piercing and heartbreaking.

He spun around, seeing Jisung standing in front of the glass door with tears of his own streaming down his face in a steady flow, obviously knowing exactly what the older had done even without having been present.

''You... you...''

Jisung was shaking like a leaf as he looked at Chan, horror, fright and betrayal all reflected in those doe eyes of his, his arms wrapping around his chest for comfort and warmth alike, and in a few quick strides, Changbin was at his side, allowing the younger to cling to him and cry into his shoulder.

He met Chan's gaze once more, seeing a sad smile on the male's face along with the unshed tears he was keeping in on purpose.

Chan said just one thing more before he disappeared out of Changbin's life, the haunting words like an unfulfilled prophecy he had unconsciously always been running away from.

''Don't wake up. It's cold out there.''

Jisung cried for a long time.

Over weeks, he would do nothing but eat, sleep and cry, transforming from the fiery bonfire that had been his trademark so long into a sad spark that was threatening to extinguish with just a strong gust or a single drop of water.

He sought out Changbin almost every day, staying curled up on the couch all day and begging to crawl into bed with him at night so he could watch the fishes whizz past the bedroom window until he fell asleep, sometimes at four or five in the morning.

It was honestly a little surprising that Jisung preferred his company over his boyfriend's, but maybe it was his way of dealing with the trauma and grief from discovering that one of his best friends had killed his other best friend.

There had been a short article in the local newspaper about the incident, squeezed somewhere in between the weather report and some random story about two boats crashing into each other in the middle of the ocean, but that had been that.

The world moved on from an _unforeseen tragedy_ as if nothing had happened at all, turning their attention back to whatever they perceived as interesting on the mainland while Jisung cried in his arms day in day out, his sorrow surpassing even the limitless sky.

Minho tried his best to take care of his _baby_ – his words, not Changbin's – whenever the younger let him and when he wasn't busy trying to comfort Jisung, he ran the bakery that meant so much to him, making sure to bring the two of them breakfast just like always.

Changbin didn't mention how the pastries tasted stale, burnt and too salty at times – why the fuck were they _salty_ –, valuing his head far too much to insult Minho's less than mediocre baking and taking at least a tiny bit of joy from seeing Jisung grimace at the food like it was the most horrendous thing he ever laid eyes on.

Minho didn't belong into a bakery. Period.

How the two of them didn't end up with food poisoning even after three weeks of being subjected to mushy dough on one end and black masses of salt and sugar powder on the other was and would forever be beyond him, but like all things, this phase passed and Jisung was able to pull himself together and go back to baking.

Being able to taste Jisung's pastries again was a refreshment, a blessing and a relief for his tongue that had forgotten what proper food was like and Changbin swore never to take Jisung's baking for granted again, even if it did continue to be a little salty for some reason.

He didn't bring it up.

Jisung had enough on his mind as was, still not looking a hundred percent or being able to sleep peacefully at night, and the last thing he wanted was to put any additional stress on the boy by telling him his baking had changed, so he politely ate everything as he always did.

It took another week of the younger crashing at his place before he deemed himself ready to return to his own home and Changbin was equal parts grateful to not have to share his bed with a squirrel that nearly pushed him to the floor every night and sad about the lack of a warm body next to him.

The first night alone again was predictably lonely, with him tossing and turning, watching the fishes in front of his window and counting imaginary sheep, but eventually, he drifted off to sleep, the rest he was given not seeming to hold a candle to his boundless fatigue.

He awoke the next day to an unlikely scene, ripped from his slumber as if someone had showered him with a bucket of ice water, his body rearing up in some sort of self defense mechanism fueled by a deep-set terror he couldn't place.

His eyes shot open in an instant, his vision so blurry and unfocused that he only saw a muddle of grey and pink for a few seconds, the scene like something out of a dream, unreal and far away, too far away while being entirely too close at the same time.

A sudden headache descended on him and he groaned, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ease the pain and summon the image of his bedroom back into his conscience, something that proved harder to do than normal.

His mind was strangely mushy and the thumps in his chest were irregular, frantic and fast without any reason, at least none that he could decipher at this point.

''Good morning, hyung.''

The voice was close, nearly up in Changbin's face, and he flinched at the volume and the sudden nature of the sentence, half-heartedly mumbling some curses under his breath at what he assumed to be Jisung.

It didn't occur to him that this could be anyone else, after all only Jisung had the audacity to regularly break into his home at the first break of dawn, but a light chuckle from the person had him rubbing his eyes in confusion, the grey fading and making way for the ever-present blue of his bedroom.

The ever-present blue that contrasted the pretty pink mop of hair in front of him so ethereally that it stole his breath away, a stunning display of colors dancing in front of his inner eye, all tinted in pink by the boy who smiled so sadly at him.

For a moment, neither of them could bring themselves to speak, words lost in the sea surrounding them, in the hopeful and bitter moment between remembering and forgetting, an edge that Changbin treaded on without a hold on himself.

Without a grasp of what was _waking up_ or where exactly _out there_ was supposed to be.

There was a prospect of a _world_ in Chan's words, as was there in Jeongin's declaration, but Changbin didn't see it, unable to perceive the picture that was drawn for him and unable to determine if it was a desirable picture or if he was better off wallowing in the made-up beauty of _this_ world.

He liked to imagine he could see the answer in Jeongin's eyes, the younger serving as a guiding star at his bleak horizon, and while he could undoubtedly make out a shimmer of _something_ in those brown depths, he was struggling to collate it to an emotion he would be able to grasp.

Jeongin was an enigma, existing independently from this world, yet still entertaining those who had built it by walking alongside him and Changbin wanted to know _why_.

A wide array of questions were filling his head, but none of them left his mouth and Jeongin used the silence to study his features, weighing his words carefully, deciding which way to take the conversation in.

He was guarding his sentences again, a practice Changbin didn't feel too good about, but he held his tongue, guessing that it was out of his control anyway.

''Have you had breakfast yet?'', Jeongin settled on asking, completely brushing over the fact that he had broken into Changbin's home without permission. As you do.

He wondered if Jisung had secretly made copies of his key and handed them out to all his friends in an effort to make him paranoid, but discarded that idea almost immediately upon realizing how ridiculous that was.

''No, I usually eat when Jisung comes over.''

It was obvious that something about this statement didn't sit well with Jeongin, the corners of his mouth twitching in displeasure, but before Changbin could ask what was up with that, the younger grasped his hand with a motion that was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, the warmth that closed around him both overwhelming and not enough.

''Then let me cook something for once'', Jeongin offered, pulling him to his feet in one swift motion and tugging at his arm, the sheer urgency conveyed by the action startling Changbin.

What startled him even more, however, was the sentence Jeongin tacked onto his offer, simply an afterthought of sorts, though so chilling in its nature that it completely threw him off.

''So you can tell me what else you remember from our time at the facility.''

''What facility?'', he heard himself ask, someone else clearly speaking with his voice, the disembodied and confused tone that reached his ears a haunting echo of something he didn't quite recollect.

There was something missing amidst his memories, a precise gap in his mind, a vast and vacant space that held nothing except a faint tune, the first notes of Jeongin's song reverberating eerily, slowly, a broken music box turned terrific purely by playing off beat.

He didn't remember.

He didn't remember what he was supposed to remember.

It had to be something important to Jeongin, he could tell as much from the way the younger froze up, his eyes immediately losing something of that fascinating shimmer as he looked at him, torn between bitterness and poorly concealed anger, seething and boiling as it was, even if it didn't seem to be aimed at _him_ specifically.

''You... you forgot?''

It wasn't as much a question as it was a conclusion, so Changbin treated it as such, merely meeting Jeongin's gaze, watching with a heavy heart how the other sighed, feeling devastation from where Jeongin's hand slipped away from his, a promise lost in the wind.

With the contact broken, every fiber of his being was struck with ice, plunged into the dephts of a merciless ocean, and his body reacted on an instinct whose origins had to lay somewhere in the forgotten part of his mind as he made a desperate leap towards Jeongin, embracing him as tight as he could.

Jeongin wasn't hugging him back, merely standing there, listless, defeated, yet Changbin took it as a good sign that he wasn't pushing him away either, seeking the younger's closeness, his breath, as if it was his reason to live.

As if he was a drowning man in the middle of the ocean, with Jeongin being a guiding star to get him safely back to an unknown shore he had so desperately tried to escape, abandoned for the promise of finding something truer, something prettier in the dark sea.

Even if that had been an impossible task from the beginning, seeing how nothing was truer and prettier than the prospect of spending his days with Jeongin _out there_ , at the place that Chan had called cold.

He was probably right to shy away from reality, to feel the air under his young wings, to live and let himself live, but he was so unbelievably desperate for this lucid dream that he hadn't hesitated to kill his lover just so they could remain trapped in it forever.

_Don't wake up._

A man who lived in dreams. That's who he was.

Fleeting thoughts crossed Changbin's mind, pictures that returned to and fled from his image, swaying like waves and succumbing, always succumbing to the tsunami that buried them under its might.

He could feel the silver of his necklace burn itself into his skin, a warning and a prophecy fulfilled and etched into the pale canvas, and he drew a shaky breath, making an attempt to reach out for the memories that were too far away and too close at once.

Ethereal soap bubbles made to burst with just a single touch, but looking so undeniably dazzling that he couldn't resist his urge to contain that beauty in its truest form.

_''We can still go back.''_

Jeongin's voice had been hoarse from crying, tears of despair glittering on his cheeks like drops of morning dew on fresh grass.

_''Please, let's go back. Let's sing our song together once again.''_

As hopeful and distraught as his words had been, they hadn't been able to reach Changbin from where he had been floating in the abysmal void of the ocean, tasting salt on his tongue and feeling a piercing sorrow in his chest that slowly made him bleed out without noticing.

_''Enough, stop it. I don't even know what that is anymore.''_

Jeongin had stared at him as if he didn't know who Changbin was anymore either, seeing nothing except another man lost in dreams, but he had never stopped being the light in the all-consuming darkness, the guiding star at the night sky for whenever he would remember.

And somehow, for some reason, Changbin just kept _forgetting._

_Wake up._

''Why do I forget, Innie?''

Finally, the younger's arms came up to rest on Changbin's back, displaying an odd reality of faux comfort as the touch didn't even register in his brain.

He felt like he was dissociating, losing his grasp on Jeongin as if he had never really touched him in the first place, and with the realization came the dreaded grey, flooding his senses, drowning him in something that wasn't _real_.

_Wake up._

Jeongin's delicate plea, simply another wave on the ocean.

_Don't wake up. It's cold out there._

Chan's sad smile, a flower swaying in the wind.

Changbin knew the answer had been right in front of him all along, but he didn't dare to talk, to voice his suspicions in fear of them becoming reality.

''It's Jisung.''

Jeongin was careful, hesitant almost, his body tense as if the words were physically straining, _restraining._

They weren't touching.

Changbin's breath caught in his throat, his heart missing a beat, but he barely noticed it, too busy watching the grey that trickled down the walls of his bedroom, eating away at the soft blue-green surrounding them. Fake.

''It's all of them'', he added, the reflection he saw of himself in Jeongin's eyes looking downtrodded, subdued, _poisoned_.

''That's a bold claim.''

Jisung's appearance in the doorway was an expected one, as was the sight of a bag full of pastries in his hands, though it had something mocking, something ridiculing at the same time, the gleam of joy in his eyes so far from being sincere that it nauseated Changbin.

''All I'm doing is taking care of hyung.''

Jeongin didn't say anything in reply. Changbin didn't either.

He had half a mind to feel betrayed, angry, disappointed or anything alike, but he figured he only wasted his emotions on the likes of people like Jisung, so he kept still, watching the very fake smile drop, the replacement given being an annoyed frown as the younger pulled out one of his pastries, holding it out for Changbin to see.

''Eat something, hyung'', he advised, taking a step closer so Changbin could have a better look at his fiery eyes that burned with a misplaced passion, flames of hell sparkling in innocent orbs.

He couldn't move. Jeongin couldn't either.

_Wake up._

''I don't feel like eating right now.''

Child-like impatience and deeply contained fury alike were drawn on Jisung's face, and when he spoke next, he was teetering precariously on an edge of trying to keep up a facade and dropping his fake demeanor altogether.

There was no longer any reason to pretend anyway.

''I said...''

'' **Eat something**.''

Changbin's world snapped into place in such a violent fashion that it gave him whiplash, his carefully crafted illusion shattering into a thousand glass shards and making way for the neverending grey of his personal prison.

Stone walls caked with dried up blood, stone floors that hadn't been cleaned in so long and the heavy, suffocating air that pressed down on his lungs, robbing him of precious breaths, of the feeling of freedom and the call of the open water he hadn't experienced in forever.

Because he was here.

In the facility.

The epiphany was like a spark, shooting through his veins and making his body jolt with vigor, and if it weren't for the restricting pressure on his chest and his wrists, he would have made a dash towards the nearest door, seeking to escape the dreadful reality he found himself in.

_Don't wake up. It's cold out there._

It was cold indeed, chilling, freezing in the space he was contained in, puffs of smoke visible in the air from his harsh exhales, and he noticed himself shivering, his body not used to the transition of eternal summer to icy winter.

Useless white dots danced in front of his eyes, little snippets taunting him of his wonderful dreams, of his carefree life at the harbor, but the illusion of anything nice was gone with the wind when he caught sight of something pink, a mop of dirtied hair moving slightly across from him, slow, disoriented.

Jeongin.

He was slumped over in a chair, tight restraints the only thing keeping him somewhat upright as he was heaving, gasping, seemingly crying as well, though it was difficult to make out with the bloody fabric tied around his eyes, obstructing his view, bringing back the aching sorrow induced by the lyrics he had written down back when he, when _they_ had been in control of their minds.

_''I miss you so bad, though you are nowhere to be seen.''_

Changbin wanted to assure him that he was right here, wanted to call out to him, raw voice scratching painfully in his throat, but upon parting his lips, Jisung immediately forced something in his mouth, a salty and burnt taste he had played off as Minho's mediocre baking in his delusions.

It wasn't a pastry sitting so delicately on top of his tongue, but rather one of those repulsive pills, _candies_ , as Jisung was so fond of calling them, drugs that completely warped his perception, his senses, his mind to the point he drowned in the fake comfort they conjured.

It was pathetic, but his body craved the substance, as a fish craved water, as a bird craved its sky, as a flower craved the earth, as a fire craved destruction.

Still, despite the pressing need to swallow the poison, despite the futility that came with hesitating, he didn't make a move to get the pill down his throat, gaze fixed on Jeongin's forcefully controlled breaths, his shuddering body, his desperate demeanor.

By all means, right now he didn't possess the bright light of a guiding star, didn't emit an aura of mystery and didn't hold a promise of hope in his eyes, but at least he was _real_ , a tangible being who was worth fighting for, worth damning even the fruits of paradise that were shared with him.

''Hyung...''

The young boy across from him was so awfully thin, so ridiculously small as he strained against his bonds, and Changbin was both heartbroken and furious as he caught Jisung's sinister smile, a spider looking at its prey, the web woven so intricately that there was no hope of escape beyond the obvious one.

Changbin wondered if Chan had managed to protect Felix from the spider.

''Are you still there?''

Jeongin's tone was equal parts panic and resignation, the guiding star lost in its own darkness, unable to find its way back to the shore while still selflessly aiding Changbin in his efforts, and the pill suddenly burned on his tongue, much like the necklace burned itself into his skin, a parting gift that rested heavily on his chest.

He couldn't have answered even if he had tried, for the door of their prison was thrown open with a ferocity that had Jeongin flinching, far too sensible to sudden noises, and Changbin staring, the figure storming into the room far too prone for home invasions for it to be a surprise.

''Sungie, Sungie! You gotta look at this! Chan went totally ballistic on Seungmin!''

The misplaced glee and morbid excitement was out of place in the cruel space they were in, as was the way Jisung's face lit up as he hopped towards the door, flinging himself into Minho's arms in a display of love that could have been endearing, but really wasn't.

''Yo shit, that guy has to give us a break'', he laughed, the joyful sounds that penetrated the air suffocating Changbin. ''I'm still kinda mad that he made us clean up that _mess_ last time.''

''Literally shut up, you enabled that.''

Bile rose in Changbin's throat at the sound of that voice and before he could have suppressed it, he turned to his side and retched, the pill spilling out of his mouth together with his vomit.

None of the three at the door cared. No one ever cared.

His head was dizzy with nausea, the world tilting dangerously on its axis, but still, he looked at Jeongin, the younger impossibly close, yet so far away at the same time.

They weren't touching. Hadn't been for a long time.

''Why are we here?'', Changbin asked, words a mere whisper as if he feared they would shatter his world even further if he spoke too loudly.

Jeongin was silent, contemplating, the torturous knowledge at the tip of his tongue, concealed and kept safe in his memories while Changbin struggled to remember anything or anyone, his grasp on reality a deformed and deranged one.

The only thing vivid enough to be able to reside in a permanent state in his array of pictures, muted videos and scarcely captured moments was the melodic tune of a song, composed and written in the wretched darkness and treasured as the only source of grace besides the faintly glittering stars in the sky.

Stars were really more Felix's thing.

_''A fragile flower sways in the wind.''_

''What do you remember?'', Jeongin asked in response, tears not yet dried on his cheeks, voice shaky and unsure, but holding so much hope that something started blooming in Changbin's heart as well, some futile spark bouncing on the waves, carried by the salty sea breeze to wherever it wished to go.

Changbin couldn't go anywhere.

_''A heart that doesn't connect sinks underneath the deep sea.''_

''I...''

An attempt to speak, a meager shot at being heard was completely destroyed as someone appeared in his field of view, towering over Jeongin's bound form as he held a syringe in his hand, deep blue liquid looking like sea water.

''Playtime is over'', Hyunjin declared, a spider pouncing on its prey, and Changbin barely had any time to react, to scream out on Jeongin's behalf when he sensed a sharp sting, a prickling sensation making its way from the side of his neck to the rest of his body.

He gasped for breath, acutely aware of the thundering heartbeat in his chest and the single word spilling from his lips, a subdued cry for consolation, a mantra of his agitated mind boiled down to his most pressing of needs.

''Jeongin...''

Changbin forgot.

The image of the boy in front of him was clear as day, pink strands fluttering in the calm summer breeze that blew over the harbor today and eyes shining with unshed tears, a recurring devastation and the ever-present hope of better days that had yet to come.

His gaze was set on the simple necklace around Changbin's neck, silver with two interlocked rings, the symbolic as basic as it was lovely, and his hand unconsciously went up, feeling the burn under his fingers and relishing in the familiar feeling.

''Changbin hyung...''

He spoke the words as if testing out his voice, carefully, slowly, as he met the older's eyes, hoping for any sort of recognition, however slight it might be.

He was terrified, Changbin realized, scared of being forgotten by the one person that meant the world to him, his own guiding star in the endless ocean they were trapped in with no chance of escape.

There was only so much that hope could do, though the boy was naturally gifted in pushing the boundaries way beyond what was supposed to be possible.

Which was why Changbin forgot and remembered at the same time, pieces of his memory slipping between his fingers, yet somehow never falling to the ground below.

Still, the boy interpreted his silence as a dreaded answer, as yet another punch to the stomach, and he turned around, about to set off down the pier and towards wherever his feet led him when Changbin found the strength to call out to him.

''Innie.''

Jeongin abruptly froze, shoulders tense with apprehension before he whipped around, heaving a sigh of relief and striding over to him with a few quick steps.

He hesitated only briefly, closing the distance between them however unnatural and useless it was, for they both knew the sensation of their lips against each other was a staged product of their imagination.

It was the closest they had to happiness, so they took it anyway, embracing the fluttering butterflies in their stomachs for all they were worth and trying to imagine the moment to be the real thing.

Even if it didn't work, even if it was bitter and cruel, Changbin was smiling when they parted after their own little eternity, cupping Jeongin's cheeks lovingly, enjoying the slightly shy glance he got in return, as well as the younger's reddened cheeks.

_I love you._

Heavy, precious and magical words that lost all their purpose in a place such as this, so Changbin settled for his own way of conveying his emotions, pulling Jeongin impossibly close to him, burying his head in Jeongin's shoulder and whispering a delicate question, one whose answer was reserved purely for the two of them.

Them and their repeated tragedy in the lucid dream they shared with no way ever to escape from it, their destinies tangled like the two rings on Changbin's necklace.

But Jeongin was right.

They were not yet broken.

''What is the name of the song sung by the two dislocated cogwheels?''

Without even seeing his face, Changbin could tell that Jeongin was smiling brightly, hopefully, as he tilted his head up towards the sky, shouting his answer for all of the world to hear.

It didn't matter that their world wasn't that big to begin with or that nobody inhabited it except the tortured souls of those who fled the cold reality of their twisted fates.

It only mattered that they remembered.

''Knots Way.''


End file.
